Is it Curtain Yet?
by Zetor
Summary: [Post-canon] Daria, Jane, Quinn, and Stacy find friendship, family, new passions, and gainful employment during Daria's last summer in Lawndale.
1. Chapter 1

"This European noble doesn't like wearing a hairpiece, or anything else! Balding baron bares all, next on sick sad world!" the TV blared as Daria lay back on her bed. She was contemplating exactly how little she could get away with doing during her last summer in Lawndale. Her thoughts were interrupted by an impatient and somehow perky knock on the door, quickly increasing in speed and volume.

"Daria, it's past three thirty. We have to leave, or I'm gonna be late!" Quinn called through the door, tapping her foot on the ground as she waited.

Daria sighed and sat up. She glanced at her clock and saw that it was three thirty-four. Cursing the fact that her very important lounging was being cut short so that Quinn could get a ride to her friend's house, she grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. She then threw on her jacket, walked over to her door, and opened it, revealing her impatient younger sister. "I'm sorry was I supposed to be doing something?" she let slip in her usual monotone.

"Come on, Daria. You know mom said you have to give me rides when her and dad are busy now that you have a car."

Daria's mood soured further. Her parents had gotten her a used green Honda Civic as some kind of sick joke. "Right, my graduation gift. The one I can't use at school because I'm a freshman, but have to shuttle you around in. I always knew Mom was a sadist." she vented at Quinn, as she pushed past her and headed downstairs.

"Eww Daria! Sex stuff? Gross." Quinn exclaimed, falling into step behind her sister. "Anyway, you're getting paid right?" Quinn replied as she followed Daria out the front door.

"Small comfort," Daria grunted, climbing into her car and starting it up, "and not enough."

"Well, thanks anyway," Quinn said with a measure of sincerity as she climbed into the passenger seat. "Walking to Sandi's would be a total pain."

"Why aren't you getting a ride with one of your boy toys? I would have thought you wouldn't be caught dead in a car like this." Daria put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. "It's over six months old, and doesn't even have a moon roof," she added with heavy sarcasm.

"Well if you must know, I've sworn off boys, so I can't get a ride that way. Anyway your cars not _that _bad, and you know what they say: beggars can't be chasers."

At that Daria abruptly pulled the car over onto the side of the street and turned to Quinn, "I'm sorry, Quinn Morgendorffer has sworn off boys? I don't think I can drive you to your ex-fashion mob meeting after all, as I have clearly gone mad."

"_Come on,_ Daria," Quinn sighed, getting impatient again, "My _friends _and I have decided to forgo dating this summer to, like, renew our sisterhood. It was Stacy's idea. Speaking of Stacy, can we go? She gets nervous when she has to wait, and you _really_ don't want a nervous Stacy in your car. This one time Timmy or Tommy or something was late and Stacy was so freaked out she—"

Daria held up a hand. "I get it, no need for details," Daria griped as she got the car back on the road. "Wait, I thought I was driving you to Sandi's. What's this about the human sprinkler system?"

Quinn shot Daria a nasty look. "We're picking up _Stacy_ on the way to Sandi's. I'm getting a ride home with her mom. God Daria, don't you pay attention when I tell you stuff at all?"

"Not if I can help it. Now, where does Stacy live?"

**::**

When they reached the Rowe's, Stacy was pacing outside holding a large bag overflowing with magazines, make up, fat-free snacks, and every other conceivable item four fashionable teenage girls might need for a slumber party. She quickly ran out to the car, stopping a few times to pick up something that fell from her bag. When she reached the car she pleaded to Quinn, "I am _so_ sorry I'm late. I was getting discussion topics ready and comparing color swatches and—"

"Stacy," Quinn said firmly, grabbing the other girl's shoulders through the window, "_We're_ late, _you're_ on time."

The brunette blushed and looked down. "Right, you're right. It's not my fault." She took a few deep breaths and looked up, "Thanks Quinn. I'm just so excited! It's our first sleepover as friends, and not the fashion club! I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone and figuring out our summer plans."

Daria cleared her throat and interrupted the excited girl, "This is all very thrilling, but can you get in the car now? I'm missing _Sick Sad World_."

Stacy gave a startled "Eep!" and clambered into the backseat.

* * *

After a short drive the three arrived at the Griffin's. Stacy hurried out of the car, nearly dropping her bag again as she did so. Before following, Quinn turned to Daria and gave her a quick hug, "Seriously, thanks for the ride Daria. I really appreciate it."

Daria gave a short, slightly taken aback grunt as Quinn got out and followed Stacy up the walk. With her passengers unloaded, Daria turned the car around and started home.

Quinn quickly caught up with Stacy who was waiting at the Griffins front door. Once there, she reached out and rang the bell.

Stacy started bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously as they waited. She turned to Quinn and asked nervously "Do you think she'll be mad that we're late?"

"Stacy, calm—" Quinn grabbed the other girls shoulders and held her still. "Calm _down_. Everything will be fine. She's not in charge of you anymore, we're all just friends. Okay?"

Stacy took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. "Okay. Right. Thanks Quinn."

As Quinn was noting for the second time that night that Stacy was doing really well controlling her freakouts, the door opened. Sandi stood in the doorway scowling them. "Well, it certainly took you long enough."

Stacy tensed up worse than before and Quinn turned and glared at their host. "My sister was running late Sandi," Quinn said, managing to hold back most of her frustration. "Why are you in such a hurry anyway? It's just a slumber party." She kept a firm grip on Stacy. The timid girl was beginning to shake, the composure she had regained a moment ago shattered.

"Well _some_ of us care about punctuality." Her eyes fell on Stacy "If _someone_ hadn't suggested that we not date over the summer maybe you could have gotten a more reliable ride."

"_Sandi_," Quinn began, trying to placate Sandi so that she could keep Stacy from breaking down crying, "we all agreed on that didn't we? _You _said we should take ourselves off the market so the boys would see how much better we were than the rest of the girls, and remember how you said you were about to recommend swearing off boys yourself before Stacy interrupted you?"

"Oh, right. Well it still does not excuse your tardiness. Please try to keep better control of your weird cousin and be more respectful of my important time in the future," Sandi said, before turning and heading inside.

"She's my sister Sandi, remember?" Quinn called after, followed by a muttered "I swear she does that on purpose." While she was talking, she picked up the bag Stacy had dropped and handed it to her.

Stacy took it once she had recovered, and let out a meek "Thanks," before the two headed in and up the stairs to Sandi's room.

**::**

Sandi, Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy were sitting around a pile of magazines, looking at summer fashions. Empty containers of low fat yogurt and plates of half eaten vegetables lay around them.

"I can't believe they let her model, she's like twenty-four" Sandi said as her door flew open.

Her two younger brothers, Sam and Chris, rolled through the door wrestling with each other. They crashed into Sandi's dresser, knocking over everything sitting on top.

Sandi shot up and ran towards her brothers screaming "Get out you little brats!" They both laughed, then quickly dashed out the door. Sandi walked out after them and, once satisfied that they weren't coming back, returned to her friends. "Like, I will be so glad when I go to college next year and never have to see those brats again," Sandi said with more hatred than annoyance.

Quinn felt a pang of guilt, knowing that she would have said something similar about Daria a year or two ago. "Sandi, they're your brothers. How can you say that?"

"I would think you would know better than anyone, _Quinn._" A small smirk grew on the ex-presidents face. "You spent more than two years pretending your _brain_ cousin didn't exist."

That was the second time that night, this was deliberate. Quinn's tone took a harder edge, "She's my sister, Sandi. You know I don't call her that anymore. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being smart. You know I've been working on my grades, and I'm still popular and fashionable. If you do want to get into college you're going to need to study too."

"Are you calling me, like, stupid, or something?"

Quinn realized things were headed for a fight and tried to diffuse the situation, "Sandi, I'm just saying that all of our grades could use some improvement. That's why I got a tutor last summer."

"Well _I_ think you're letting all that _brain_ stuff get in the way of what's important. I didn't want to say anything, but your choice of clothing lately has been subpar at best." Quinn gasped. "You must get your priorities straight, Quinn, or we," she shot a commanding glare at Stacy, who looked like a deer in headlights, and Tiffany, who was staring at her reflection in her compact, "will have to reconsider associating ourselves with you, lest our enemies see you as a weak point and strike."

Quinn stopped trying to placate the other girl and began fighting back, "What enemies, Sandi? We're teenage girls! No one is plotting to destroy your image. You're not that important."

"Of course _you'd _say that. You're probably a spy! All those brains have turned you against us!" Sandi ranted in an increasingly unstable tone, her eyes slightly glazed over as she glared at Quinn.

"Sandi, I think what Quinn was _trying_ to say was—" Stacy tried to interject.

"Shut up, Stacy!" barked Sandi, shifting her glare to the pig tailed girl for a moment, before turning to face Quinn again.

"Eep!" Stacy cried and scooted away from the other girls.

"Sandi, stop it," Quinn shot back firmly, regaining her composure, "Why are you always doing that?"

"Doing what?" Sandi responded in a confused and annoyed voice.

Quinn looked at Sandi incredulously. She gestured to Stacy, who was breathing heavily a few feet back from where she had been sitting before. "Look at Stacy! She's freaking out!" Quinn moved over to pat Stacy's back. "How can you treat your friend like that?"

"Of course a traitor like you wouldn't understand." Sandi paused condescendingly, then continued, "Stacy has always obeyed me. She's loyal, unlike you."

Quinn started to get upset again, "Darn it Sandi, we're supposed to be friends now, not your club. Friends don't 'obey' you."

"Yeah right. Like, why else would you have friends?"

Something finally registered in Quinn's mind, and she stared at Sandi in shock. She turned and looked from Stacy, who was just starting to catch her breath, to Tiffany who was still staring vacantly into her mirror, and then back to Sandi who was still glaring at her with those crazy eyes. She sat back and examined the girl across from her. In a quieter tone she asked a question she already knew the answer to, "You're joking, right?"

"Like, did I say something funny?" Sandi replied with a sneer.

Quinn took a deep breath and braced herself. "Sandi, you have friends so you have people to talk to and hang out with and share things with, not to do things for you and to scream at," Quinn implored. She got a bit misty eyed and continued, "We're all growing up and doing our own things, that's why the fashion club broke up. I was hoping we could all stay friends, but if that's your idea of friends are then I don't think we can."

"If that's how you feel then I guess you should go. We don't need a selfish friend like you." Sandi said with finality, gesturing to the door.

Quinn looked at her friends. Tiffany was still looking at that darn mirror and Stacy was looking down, avoiding eye-contact. Her gaze lingered sadly on Stacy. She wanted to help, but she couldn't do it for her. It wouldn't work unless she did it herself. Quinn waited a moment longer, then sighed and shook her head "Alright Sandi, I'm going." She stood up, gathered her things, and headed for the door.

"Quinn, wait," Stacy called, getting up and grabbing her bag.

Without looking back, Quinn paused halfway to the door. She tried not to get her hopes up, but a small, soft smile played across her lips nonetheless.

Sandi sharply addressed Stacy as she stood to leave, "And, like, where do you think _you're_ going?"

Stacy froze, and for a moment it seemed like she would break down again. Instead she took a deep breath and met Sandi's gaze with a sad, tired smile. "I'm leaving Sandi."

Quinn turned to watch in support.

"What?" Sandi uttered, taken aback at Stacy's self-assertion.

Stacy sighed, "Sandi I've been your friend for a long time now. I gave up a lot of other friends to stand by you. I'm not doing that again, you're not worth it."

"So you're choosing that _traitor—_" Sandi gestured to Quinn "—over _me_?"

"I'm not choosing Quinn, Sandi, I'm choosing me." Stacy started to cry, not hysterically, but out of genuine sadness. "I love you Sandi. You've been my best friend since elementary school. I gave up things I loved for you. I changed myself for you. I liked the things you told me to like." She started to take down her hair. "I wore these stupid pigtails because you said we couldn't both have long brown hair. I tried to make you happy, but it was never enough." Dropping her hair ties, she paused to dry her eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry Sandi. I'm sorry it was never enough, but I can't do it anymore. I have to leave now. Goodbye Sandi, I'm sorry." She turned towards Quinn and silently walked past her and out the door, leaving Sandi awestruck on the floor.

Quinn gave Sandi an odd look of both pity and satisfaction, before turning and following Stacy.

Just before they closed the door behind her, Quinn heard Tiffany's voice come from Sandi's room, "Huh? Where did Quinn and Stacy go?" It was followed shortly by a loud scream of frustration.

* * *

Once outside, Stacy collapsed against the Griffins' door. Tears began to flow as she thought of what she had just done. It was over, there was no going back. Sandi would never talk to her again after that. That was good, probably, but it hurt like hell.

Quinn dropped down next to her friend and caught her in a tight hug.

They stayed like that for a while. Stacy sobbing and Quinn quietly holding her. Finally, Stacy stopped crying and addressed Quinn, "It's alright Quinn, I'm o-okay now. Thank you." After a final tight squeeze, Quinn let go and both girls got up. Stacy walked to the sidewalk and looked back at the Griffins front yard and house. She had been here hundreds of times over the years, her best friend's house, Sandi's house.

As Stacy started to tear up again, Quinn grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the sidewalk. "Ice cream. You need ice cream."

"What?" Stacy asked, as Quinn literally pulled her out of her trance.

Quinn kept walking at a brisk pace. "Ice cream. When you break up you need ice cream." Stacy's palm got sweaty. Quinn quickly added "Whether it's a friend or a b- someone you like."

Stacy sighed and stopped. She let go of Quinn's hand. "Quinn, it's okay, I know it's probably pretty obv—"

Quinn turned to face her friend. She held up her hand for her to stop talking, her misty eyes catching Stacy's red ones. In a firm, but kind, voice she laid out what was going to happen, "Stacy, we are going to the store to get two big tubs of ice cream. Then, we are going to your house. _Then, _we are going to have a long talk in which we share the past, secrets, truths, friendship, and anything else you want to talk about. Okay?"

Stacy was stunned. After a moment she nodded. "Um, okay Quinn."

"Good, 'cause I think we're both gonna need ice cream."

**::**

As Quinn and Stacy entered the Rowe's, Stacy headed for the kitchen to get some spoons. She told Quinn, "Just sit down living room, my parents should be out having dinner for a while."

"Alright," Quinn said heading off to the right towards the living room.

Stacy grabbed the spoons and filled a couple of glasses with water from the pitcher in the fridge. She considered getting bowls, but decided that, for this sort of talk, straight out of the carton was best. She arrived in the living room to find Quinn sitting on the couch, with the ice cream and a box of tissues on the coffee table. Stacy looked around her living room and worried over what her friend thought about her home. Quinn had been here before and not said anything, but it was so much smaller than at any of her friends' houses and everything was so much older.

Quinn grabbed a spoon from Stacy and pushed the large tub of birthday cake ice cream the other girl had picked out across the table, in front of one of the two recliners. "Sit down, Stacy." When Stacy didn't move, she said, "By the way have I ever told you I like your house? It's so cozy." Stacy tensed at this and Quinn sighed. "Stacy, stop it. I'm not Sandi, I'm not going to judge you or yell at you for your parents' house."

"Sorry." Stacy sat down and put the water on the table.

"Stop apologizing, Stacy. You didn't do anything wrong." Quinn popped the top off of her tub of strawberry ice cream. She continued with a hint of sadness in her voice "Anyway, I was being serious. I like how your house feels like people actually live in it."

"Um, thanks." Stacy said uncertainly, opening her own ice cream.

"Good. Now that that's settled, let's get down to talking." Quinn seemed to hesitate, then continued, "I was impressed with the way you told off Sandi. It was really… um…"

"I meant it." Stacy interjected.

"Well, yeah. I could tell, I mean…"

"I meant it when I said I loved her Quinn." Stacy said seriously. Her voice was calm, but her heart was beating like crazy. Quinn was silent. Stacy's heart beat faster. She was terrified she was going to lose the only friend she had left. "I'm gay Quinn."

"Well, duh," Quinn blurted out.

"What?" Stacy said, confused, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Oh god Stacy! I'm so sorry! That just came out!"

Stacy sniffed and then took a deep breath. Then she thought for a minute and relaxed some, smiling. "So, you knew?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, but I meant to be much nicer when you came out. Like, supportive and stuff. You're my best friend. Gah, I'm so dumb." Quinn buried her face in her hands.

Stacy stared for a bit, then started giggling, then laughing outright.

Quinn looked up from her hands and stared worriedly at Stacy. "Um, Stacy? Are you okay?"

Stacy managed to stop laughing and wiped her eyes. "Sorry, this just isn't how I expected this to go." She chuckled, "A whole lot better than I was afraid of though."

Quinn smiled and looked Stacy in the eye. "Stacy, I'm your best friend. I'll always be there for you through whatever happens, okay?" Stacy smiled back, happy tears in her eyes. Quinn's look got more serious. "Are you ready to talk about Sandi now, or do you wanna wait?"

Stacy hesitated, looking down at her ice cream for a moment, then scooped out a bite. After she swallowed, she said, "No, I need to do this now."

Quinn smiled softly at her friend. "So how did it start?" she asked and took a bite of her own.

Stacy stared silently into the distance for a moment, then began, "It started before I knew I liked girls, well really before I knew I _liked _anyone. We were in third grade, in girl scouts. I really liked girl scouts, but _Sandi_ said—"

"Dad!" Quinn interjected on reflex. Stacy flinched and looked at Quinn perplexed. Quinn blushed. "Sorry, force of habit. It's… complicated," she explained in an embarrassed tone. She continued more gently, "Look, just focus on the story. Get it out. She can't tell you what to do anymore."

Stacy gave Quinn an odd look and continued, "So we were in girl scouts together. She wasn't always so bad, I mean she was bad, but not like now. Anyway, I've always liked people. I always had lots of friends back then, I wasn't worried about who was good enough to hang out with." Quinn looked down at her lap and had another spoonful of ice cream. "Sandi was always alone though. I felt sorry for her, I wanted her to have friends too. So I tried to get her to work with everyone else, but she had problems. She would insult people, or try to boss everyone around, even the older girls. A few people were afraid of her and started doing what she said, but she still seemed so lonely. It's kind of like what you said to her Quinn. About not understanding friendship, having followers not friends. She was really still all alone, and I still really wanted to help her."

"But what about your other friends?"

"They… left. I thought I could help Sandi, and then we would both be able to go back and make friends with them again. Then everyone would be happy," Stacy's voice cracked and she wiped at her eyes. Both girls ate a few spoonfulls of ice cream, then Stacy took a drink from her glass and continued, "Obviously that's not what happened. I blame Sandi's mom more than anyone. She was always pushing her, telling her how to manipulate people and that appearances were all that mattered. If you weren't good at something, then you shouldn't do it because you were showing people you were bad at something. Sandi wasn't the best at girl scouts, mostly because she wouldn't work with everyone else. So her mom took her out. I left too, because… b-because…" Stacy sobbed.

"Stacy—" Quinn started to reach out, but Stacy waved her off.

"It's alright, Quinn. I need to get through this, listening is more than enough. Thank you." Quinn sighed and took another bite as Stacy took a drink and continued, "So, I left too, because I was going to help her. To fix her. To save her. Anyway, I left. We spent all our time together. There were good times, we played with dolls and did all the normal little girl stuff, but Sandi got worse. She kept listening to her mom. She got bossier and s-started y-yelling at me all the time. She thought everyone was out to get her, to make her look bad. Not like now. I'm not sure where that came from, maybe when you came."

"Wait, why me?" Quinn asked, and took a drink of water.

Stacy looked a bit surprised. "Quinn, you're better than Sandi. You are what she wants to be. I'm sure you know some of this, but she took you into the fashion club to try to control you, to keep you out of circulation. She couldn't though. You could have taken that club over anytime in the last two and a half years, and she knew it. She was terrified. I think that's what made her more… You know…"

The room was quiet for a while. In a low voice Quinn asked no one in particular, "So I made her… I made another person go…"

Stacy forced herself out of the dark mood. She shook her head and put a firm hand on Quinn's arm. "No," she cut in, in an uncharacteristically strong voice, "you might be why, but you didn't try to make it happen. It's not your fault for being you and it's not my fault for not being able to save her." The last part was said quieter, to herself.

Quinn ate another spoonfull of strawberry. She took a drink and, recovered, asked, "So you must have been going into middle school around then, right?"

Stacy sighed, "Yeah, and that's around when I started to figure out something was different. I had given up so much for her, lost so much because of her, but I still liked her even though I shouldn't. But other kids were starting to talk about liking people in a different way, a way sometimes you couldn't choose. It sounded like how I liked Sandi, and it would explain a lot. But they were always the other sex. Boys liked girls that way and girls liked boys that way. It didn't make sense. I asked Sandi if she'd heard of that happening, a girl liking a girl. Thankfully I didn't mention us, because she said only freaks felt that way."

Quinn put her hand on Stacy's. "I'm so sorry, Stacy. That must have been horrible."

Stacy gave a sad smile. "No, not right away. I just thought I was wrong, that I didn't like Sandi like that because that would make her hate me and that couldn't be right. She was all I had left. So, I acted like I liked boys, because that's how you act and I didn't know how everyone else actually felt so I didn't know I didn't actually like boys. I dated some boys, and I had fun hanging out with them, but I didn't like kissing, which was okay because Sandi said that made you easy." Stacy took a break, wiping away the tears she hadn't realized she had shed, this part was harder to get through than she had thought it would be. It was just how things were.

Stacy took a deep breath, followed by a few spoonfulls of birthday cake ice cream and a sip of water to clear her throat. She continued, "I figured things out eventually, of course. I learned the whole world didn't hate gay people and accepted that I was gay. I never told anyone of course, Sandi was my only friend and Tiffani would just ask if being a lesbian would make her look fat. I tried to get myself to like other people, guys and girls. I tried too hard. Heck, I did that creepy copycat thing when I tried to get into you."

Quinn shivered. "Ugh. Yeah. Er… sorry, but that was just…"

Stacy laughed. It felt good to laugh, Quinn was surprisingly good at that. "No, it was weird. Trust me, I was embarrassed for months. Right, where was I? Oh, yeah. I tried getting into other girls, and kept dating boys hoping that might take. None of it did. But the past year or so a lot has happened. You started moving forwards, and that made me think I could too I guess. I still liked Sandi but I started—"

"Hold on, what do you mean _I_ moved forward?"

"You started studying, you acknowledged your sister, you helped Sandi lose all that weight. You stopped being a petty _bitch_ like Sandi and started worrying about the future. You're my role model Quinn."

Quinn blushed. "I didn't really- I mean we're all growing up right? I still have a lot to make up for with Daria." Quinn sounded guilty.

Stacy put her hand on Quinn's, unsure exactly what was going on with her friend. "Quinn, please be proud of what you've achieved, I'd still be where I was last year without your example. I don't know what's going on with you and your sister but it seems like you've started things in the right direction. If I can help I'm there, okay?" Quinn, whose head was still down, nodded and looked up at Stacy, as if asking her to continue. "Anyway, I've grown. I almost left Sandi at the end of this year, but I caved and then we all got back together as friends. Tonight, you gave me the courage to finally leave for good." Stacy, having gotten through her story, started to tear up. "I-I still l-love her. But, I love you too, as a f-friend. And I'm not losing any more friends to her. I can't be alone anymore."

Stacy started sobbing as she finished and Quinn hugged her friend and joined her. After a few minutes both girls wiped their eyes and sat back.

"Hey," Quinn broke the silence, "didn't you say something about summer plans, before, y'know, everything?"

"Oh, yeah!" Stacy lit up and started searching through her bag, dumping sleepover supplies all over the floor. "Here it is!" She handed Quinn a brochure.

Quinn looked it over. "I don't know, Stacy. Theatre camp, at _school_. And it's run by Mr. O'Neill. I'm sorry, but I don't think—"

"Wait! It's not _our_ Mr. O'Neill! It's like his cousin or something, he's the new theatre teacher they hired for school."

"I still don't know, remember that renaissance festival? With the turkey legs?" Quinn shivered.

"The one where you got screwed over by Sandi because you were going to be awesome and she was jealous?" Stacy spat out with much more venom than she had intended.

Quinn gave Stacy a careful look, and then continued the conversation, "Well, my mom's going to make me do _something_ this summer. I guess this could work."

Stacy smiled. "You're going to look great on stage Quinn. I'm sure you'll get the lead."

"What about you? You did great in that magic show!" Quinn returned the compliment.

"Actually," Stacy hesitated, "I don't think I'm going to try out for the play."

"Stacy, if you're not doing this then why did you bring it up?"

"I still want to go, but I want to do the tech part." She paused. "I think I might want to get into theatre next year at school. I really liked performing in the magic show and I want to try out the other side of things so I can understand it better. Like sets and lighting and that kind of thing. _Please _do this with me Quinn? We won't be working together for the most part, but we'll still see each other and it'd really help to have a friendly face." Stacy directed her best puppy dog eyes at Quinn.

Quinn smiled and laughed, "Okay, okay, you've convinced me! Now, let's get this," she gestured to the mostly emptied ice cream tubs, water glasses, and the sizable pile of tissues, "cleaned up and watch a movie or something."

"Sounds good. Is Clueless okay?"

"Always."

* * *

Daria kicked her door shut behind her, her hands full of left-over pizza and soda. She set her food down at her desk and was about to sit down when someone started knocking on her door. She sighed and turned towards the door, shouting "Mom, I told you that if you tried to make me do something this summer you shouldn't expect to see me over the holidays."

"Um, Daria, it's me," Quinn's voice came somewhat meekly through the door. "Can we talk?"

Daria sighed again, then walked over to her door and swung it open. "Five minutes, then you start paying overage fees." the older girl said, as she walked over to her desk and sat down.

Quinn followed her in and stood facing her. She took a deep breath and began, "I've been thinking a lot lately—"

"The aspirin is in the drawer next to the sink in the kitchen."

Quinn gave her sister a strange expression somewhere between a pout and a glare. Clearing her throat, she started over, "A lot of things have changed lately and it's got me thinking. About growing up and how the people I care about fit into that, and how I've acted in the past. And… Well…" She paused and looked down at the ground, wringing her hands. "I want to apologize. I've acted like a spoiled little monster for a long time." She sniffed. "I know I can't take any of it back, Daria, but I still want to be your sister." Quinn looked up, her misty eyes finding Daria's, and continued, "I don't mean like Mom and Rita and Amy, but real sisters. Sisters who talk, and care about each other. I don't want you to disappear forever when you go off to college. We've just started understanding each other a little over the past year and I don't want to lose that." With that, Quinn fell silent and stood there fidgeting and wringing her hands.

Daria's face remained an unemotional mask as she tried to figure out what could have gotten her sister so worked up, and how it might affect her. Considering the past, she came up with what she felt was the most likely cause and sighed, "I take it Aunt Rita called?"

Quinn stopped her fidgeting. She looked puzzled for a moment, then indignant. "What? No. Darn it Daria, I'm being serious here! I'm not just protracting Mom and her sisters' problems onto us!" She walked to the doorway and turned to look back at her sister, addressing her in a voice tinged with frustration, "Look Daria, I'm trying. I want things to get better between us. It's up to you now." Letting a little hope creep into her voice she added, "I'll keep next Friday open, I hope we can hang out and talk or something," then turned back to the hall, and headed toward her room.

Before Daria could get her head wrapped around what her sister had just said, her mother marched through her open door. She stood across from Daria with her arms crossed and questioned worriedly, "Daria, are you and your sister fighting again? I thought you two were past all that that." Daria was silent, still trying to process everything. "Fine, be that way," Helen sighed relaxing her pose. "That's not why I came up here anyway. I want to talk about your summer plans. Now I know you're not in high school and you don't need any summer activities for your college application since you've already been admitted—"

Daria recovered from her confusion at the mention of summer plans. "Good, I'm glad we're on the same page. Now if you'll kindly leave, I can begin wasting my summer as efficiently as possible."

Helen shot her daughter a slightly annoyed look, and continued, "_However,_ I still think it's important for you to be productive." Daria leveled a sardonic glare at her mother as she continued her sales pitch. "I know you've been interested in getting a laptop for school, and I can assure you that there will be plenty of other incidental costs that will arise while you're at school. With that in mind your father and I would like to make you an offer, if you find a job this summer we'll match whatever you earn. You're free to do nothing all summer, but I think you'll be missing out on a great opportunity. No need to answer now, just think it over, okay Daria?"

"Mhn," Daria grunted in reply, turning back to her food as her mother left her room. She took a bite of her pizza and realized it was now lukewarm at best. She sighed and leaned back, looking at the cracks on her ceiling. After a moment of this she got up and headed to her phone. After dialing a familiar number and waiting through several rings, someone picked up on the other end. "Hey, Trent. Is Jane there?"

* * *

**Hey, author here.**

**So this an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for years in one way or another, but I'm finally getting around to putting to paper. Not sure what the release rate will look like, but I hope I don't disappoint. **

**This my first time posting here and my first time writing at all in a long time. That said, please be brutal. Complements are fine, but I'd rather have someone actually help me get better than pat me on the back. Thanks again. **

**Edit: Gah! Okay, still getting used to the site. Sorry if this was gibberish or didn't have breaks.**

**Edit 2: Removed some language I decided was unnecessary.**

**Edit the 3rd: 8/10/15 Tidied things up a little, grammar and such. Going back over all these chapters to give myself a refresher and fix up anything I notice.**


	2. Chapter 2

Jane stood back from her latest work, tapping her finger against her cheek, trying to figure out why she wasn't satisfied.

Her brother poked his head in her door "Hey Janey, Daria's on the phone," he said in his usual raspy voice.

"Hmm?" Jane shook herself from her analysis. "Oh, thanks Trent. I'll pick it up in here."

"Cool," Trent said and left back towards his room.

Jane walked over to her phone and picked it up. "To what do I owe the honor of a call from the recipient of the prestigious Dian Fossey Award?"

Daria's annoyed voice came over the line, "Ugh, Jane, when are you going to drop that?"

"When it stops annoying you so much. So, what do you need?" Before Daria could reply, a light snore interrupted the conversation. "Hang on, Daria." Jane covered the phone with her hand and yelled "Trent! Hang up the phone!" When there was no response, Jane returned to Daria, "Hold on a second while I hang up Trent's phone."

"Mnh," Daria assented, sounding distracted.

As she headed down the hall to her brother's room, Jane decided that Daria was definitely worried about something more significant than their next bad movie night. She walked in Trent's open door and saw him sprawled across his bed, with his duck phone lying off the hook next to him. She sighed and shook her head as she walked over to the bed. Once there she yelled, "Trent!" again and gave him a shove.

He blearily opened his eyes. "What's up?"

"Trent, I know it's hard, but could you please stay awake long enough to hang up the phone after you tell me someone's on the line?" Jane asked sarcastically, arms crossed as she looked down at him.

"Sorry, long practice," he mumbled half-asleep. After groping around a bit, he managed to find the phone and hang it up. He then fell promptly back to sleep.

"Probably almost a whole hour," Jane said to herself. She shook her head again and chuckled as she headed back to her room. She picked up the receiver again and said, "Sorry about that. Trent's narcolepsy is acting up again."

"Are you implying it ever stopped?" Daria asked.

"Well, he picked up the phone, didn't he?"

"Yeah, and it only took about a dozen rings. What were _you_ doing?"

Jane scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, and replied, "Absorbed in my art. Something's just not right about what I've been doing lately. But enough about me, why'd you call?"

Daria sighed, "Know any good locksmiths?"

"Why, planning on locking Quinn in her tower?" Jane quipped.

"I think I need a deadbolt for my door."

"Didn't it used to have one?" Jane asked lying down on her bed.

"I was hoping to have it installed on the _inside_."

"I can see where that might be more desirable. So what's brought on this sudden need to physically secure your isolation? You always seemed content to scare your family off with your pleasant demeanor in the past."

"They seem to be developing an immunity. My mother is trying to bribe me into getting a job and—"

Jane cut her off before she could continue "Wait, bribe you to get a job? I thought you told your parents you were taking the summer off?"

"I _did_," Daria said, frustrated, "Apparently my mother thinks it's a good idea for me to stay active and is trying the carrot, since I broke the stick."

"So what did she offer you?" Jane asked, curious and a bit jealous.

"She said she'd match whatever I made over the summer."

Jane whistled, "That's not a bad deal. Getting paid to get paid sounds pretty nice. I know I could use the cash. Heck, I've been thinking of going back to Gary's gallery to earn some extra money for school. My parents will cover tuition and a dorm, but I'm planning on actually enjoying college—" she paused "—and I'll be dragging _you_ with me."

"You're going to have to work on your upper body strength," Daria shot back, then continued, "Why does everyone have to be so damn industrious? I just want to lay around all summer for once."

"Sorry to disappoint, but money makes the world go round." Jane chuckled. "Look, Max's cousin just opened a used book store and coffee shop on Dega Street a few months ago, I'm sure she's looking for summer help. I'll get you an interview, it's a practically sure thing."

"Come on Jane, can you imagine me as a waitress?"

Jane's frustration with her friend's laziness and lack of ability to realize her good fortune started to affect her tone. "Daria, it's a coffee shop and book store, they_ want_ sarcastic misanthropes." She caught herself and calmed down a bit. "Look, I'm just trying to help out. Think about it okay? I'm headed into town on Wednesday to buy art supplies, you can come with me and we'll stop by the place."

Daria gave a resigned sigh, "I'll think about it."

"So, what's really bothering you?" Jane asked, carefully.

There was a slight pause, then Daria asked, "What do you mean?"

Jane pushed a bit more, "Daria, I know you well enough to tell when you're brooding over something. Plus, you said your _family_ was building an immunity to your scathing wit, not just your mother, _and_ you were going to say something else before I cut you off and we talked about the work stuff."

"You're far too attentive, Lane."

"Comes with being an artist. Now spill." Jane ordered.

Daria sighed, then explained, "Fine, Quinn came up to my room before my mom. She was on some weird kick about growing up and wanting to be real sisters, not just call each other and fight every two months like my mom and her sisters. The weird thing is I can't figure out her angle. She seemed almost… sincere." Daria waited for a while, but Jane was thinking. "Jane?"

"Sorry, that was a bit more than I was expecting," Jane said, her tone slightly melancholy. After another pause she continued, "Have you considered the possibility that she _was _being serious? Listen Daria, I have a lot of siblings. Three that I see once every few years and can't stand when I do, and one that I'm dreading leaving here next winter. I'd give a lot to have the kind of relationship I have with Trent with just one of my other siblings. If there's a chance your little sister is reaching out to you, you owe it to both of you to at least give it a shot."

"Some friend you are, refusing to help me stubbornly avoid responsibility," Daria responded sarcastically.

Jane, having said her piece, let the mood lighten. "Sorry kid, Judge Jane calls 'em like she sees 'em."

Jane could hear Daria's smirk over the phone as she replied, "Alright Your Honor, I'll give it some thought. Later."

"Later."

* * *

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this," Daria griped she drove her car towards Dega Street.

Jane grinned widely. "Come on Daria, think about how great barista/salesclerk will look on your resume five years from now." Daria would have glared at Jane if she hadn't been driving. After a moment the taller girl continued, "Alright, then think about the new laptop you'll be able to buy with double whatever they'll pay you."

Daria gave a noncommittal grunt and asked, "What's this place's name again, and who are we meeting?"

"It's called Coffee Stain. We're meeting Cassie Tyler, she's Max's cousin." Jane explained.

Daria pulled onto Dega Street and started looking for parking. "She's not a 'criminalé', is she?"

Jan chuckled, "Nah, she's cool. I've met her at some Spiral gigs, actually I'm surprised you were never introduced."

Daria found a spot on the curb where she wouldn't have to parallel park. "I've worked very hard on my ability to avoid meeting new people," Daria explained as she parked the car and got out.

"I guess I should be glad I was able to slip past. Come on, it's this way," Jane said and headed down the street. After passing a few shops, she stopped in front of a door and pointed to the burnt orange logo. 'Coffee Stain' was written in large text on the window, 'used books, new coffee' was in smaller print below. Above the words was a hard backed book half submerged in a cup of coffee at a 45° angle with steam coming off. It was very stylized, but immediately recognizable.

Daria raised an eyebrow, "Your handiwork?"

"Call it an experiment in marketing iconography," she waited a beat, "or a paycheck. Either way." She pushed the door open. "Let's go."

Daria was hit with the pleasant aroma of old books and fresh coffee, just as advertised. She looked around as she entered the shop. In front of her there were rows of bookshelves about as tall as she was, divided into the usual sections, barring a few exceptions along the left wall. The first oddity she noticed was that science fiction and fantasy had been separated into two sections instead of being lumped together. There was also a dedicated section for tabletop games and another for graphic novels. Cassie was a geek. To the left there was a small café with a counter and a few couches and armchairs. In the far left corner between the books and the café there was a sealed off room Daria assumed was storage, until she noticed a sign reading 'Game Room' on the door. Definitely a geek.

"Daria, snap out of it. Come over here," Jane called from the café.

Beside her stood a woman in her mid to late twenties, probably an inch or two taller than Jane. She had short wavy blonde hair and green eyes. Both her ears had black studs in them and there was a small silver ring in her right nostril. Her uniform consisted of a fitted black t-shirt tucked into a nice pair of blue jeans and an apron the same burnt orange as the logo. The woman turned to Daria and said "No, it's cool. Look around for a bit first."

Daria hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by how casual the woman, who she assumed to be Cassie, was. She shrugged and decided to have a quick look at the selection. She looked over the history and philosophy sections. Mostly World War II and Plato, but there were a couple of more obscure books mixed in. She then headed to the left wall with the sci-fi and fantasy sections. The selection was surprising, especially for a used book store. The masters were all there, a lot of cyberpunk too, along with quite a lot of authors Daria had either never heard of or never seen physical copies of. Fantasy was less her thing, but it looked well stocked. Satisfied with her browsing, Daria headed over to the café.

As she got close, the woman addressed her, speaking in an excited tone "So, Jane tells me you're quite the bibliophile. What do you think of my shop? Be honest." She leaned forward eagerly.

Daria spoke without hesitation. "Well, you're clearly marketing to the geek crowd." The woman nodded. "The general selection is about normal for a used book store, but the science fiction and fantasy sections are impressive." The woman smiled. "I'm not sure how you got all those books though, because I'm pretty sure Lawndale doesn't get that much traffic for that sort of thing."

"You might be surprised," the woman said with a smirk and a more businesslike demeanor, "but I do some online trading in 'geeky' books, and a lot of the selection comes from that. I'm Cassie by the way, though I'm sure you guessed that by now." She stuck out her hand.

Daria hesitated and then shook the older woman's hand; her limp grip seemed even more so next to Cassie's firm one. "Daria Morgendorffer," she half mumbled, uncomfortable with the contact.

"It's cool Daria, I don't judge people on their handshakes," Cassie offered in a kind professional manner, smiling. "Jane's assured me you know how to deal with the unwashed masses and that's what matters." Her smile turned to a smirk. "Frankly, some harshness is appreciated in the position I'm looking to fill. You would be surprised how many of my customers are freaked out by a cheery barista." She stopped talking for a moment, then looked as if she remembered something and perked up, excited again, "But I'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about books a bit more. You lingered on the sci-fi section. Who's your favorite of the Big Three?"

Between Cassie's alternating upbeat and serious demeanors and her jumping from topic to topic Daria was getting a bit off balance. She tried to relax herself, then answered, "Heinlein. Asimov and Clarke are great, but Heinlein's politics and philosophy are intriguing."

Cassie tapped her chin, serious again, looking at Daria appraisingly, "Hmm… Yeah." She seemed to come to some decision. She then shook her head, and dove back into the discussion like she hadn't said anything, energetic as ever, "But his politics and philosophy change from book to book! Besides, you must find some of them offensive."

Daria felt herself being drawn in, she hadn't had a chance to talk to someone about this sort of thing in real life before and Cassie's energy was contagious. "That's the point. It's interesting to watch the change, and even if some are outdated or offensive, others are well argued and still relevant. So, who's your favorite?"

Cassie lit up "Oh, I like Clarke. _Childhood's End_ was—"

Jane cleared her throat and the other two jumped and looked at her like she had appeared out of thin air. She chuckled and asked "Cassie, does Daria have the Job?"

Cassie looked confused for a moment, pulled out of her conversation mid thought. She regained her more serious manner, turned to Daria, and asked, "Do you want it? It would be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, eight to four."

Daria blushed a bit over Jane seeing her act like that. She thought for a moment about the job. The place was certainly interesting, and she was unlikely to find anywhere better on short notice. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

Jane got up from the arm chair she'd been sitting in. "Well, I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about, work and otherwise," Jane smirked and Daria's blush deepened, "so I'll leave you to it and go check out some art supplies. Later." She waved as she walked to the exit.

"Later," echoed Cassie.

"Bye," Daria called as Jane walked out the door. Once Jane was out the door, Daria turned back to Cassie and picked their conversation up where they'd left off, "Clarke was great, but he was always a little existential for me."

Cassie shifted from serious back to energetic, "See, that's why I _like_ Clarke. So how about Asimov?"

* * *

Jane walked down Dega Street, quite pleased with herself. She had managed to get Daria a job she wouldn't hate, and at a cool place where she could get a discount on coffee to boot. Seeing Daria and Cassie geeking out over books like that had been a pretty amusing bonus too, but there was only so much of that a person could take. When she was a few storefronts down from the art supply store, she heard someone call out her name, breaking her from her reverie.

"Jane! This is perfect!" came the voice of Lawndale High's art teacher from down the street.

Jane stopped and turned around to look at her former teacher, who was hurrying down the street toward her. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes and her red hair more frayed than usual. "Hey, what's up Ms. Defoe?" Jane asked casually.

"Jane, I'm so glad I ran into you," the older woman said breathlessly once she caught up. After a moment she recovered and continued, "First, please call me Claire. You're not my student anymore, you're a fellow artist whose work I respect. That said, I have something I'd like to ask you."

Jane stiffened a bit, worried where this might lead. "What is it?" she asked, her voice apprehensive.

"Well, there's a summer theatre program being run at the school, and I'm supposed to be in charge of the sets, props, costumes, and things like that," Ms. Defoe started.

"I'm sorry Ms. Defoe, but I promised myself I wouldn't return to Lawndale High without a conquering horde to raze it. Besides, I don't have the time for another project right now. I'm too busy trying to find a way to earn some spending money for when I head up to Boston for college next spring," Jane explained.

"Jane, you're misunderstanding, and please call me Claire. I don't want you to help, I want you to take over for me. My mother is extremely ill and I have to fly out of state to take care of her. I need someone talented who I can trust, and who I know has the creative vision to produce an interesting visual design for the play." She looked at Jane expectantly, and added, "As my replacement, you would of course be paid."

"_Paid_ you say?" Jane raised her eyebrow. "Well, _Claire_, I have been feeling like I needed to try something new with my art. Let's talk showbiz."

**::**

Jane returned to Coffee Stain, figuring that ironing things out with Defoe had probably passed enough time for Daria to get everything worked out. Cassie was behind the counter talking to one of her employees and Daria was in an armchair reading. Jane walked up to her friend and cleared her throat.

Daria jumped a barely perceptible amount and closed her book. "They ran out of art supplies?" she asked, eyeing Jane's empty hands.

"Something else came up, I'll tell you on the way home," Jane explained, "Ready to go?"

Daria gave her a questioning look, but didn't press any further. "Yeah, just a sec. Gotta check in with the boss man." She stood up and grabbed a bag of books sitting next to the chair, then walked over to the counter, Jane in tow.

"You guys headed out?" Cassie asked as they reached the counter.

"Yeah, I'll be here at eight on Friday," Daria replied.

"Just remember to buy some decent jeans and a nice black shirt for the uniform, your boots should be fine if you can pull the jeans over them," Cassie reminded.

"Alright, bye," Daria said.

"Thanks for everything," Jane added, "It was good seeing you again, Cassie."

"Thank _you_. I think Daria is going to be perfect, you really helped me out."

Jane smirked and leaned in, asking, "Enough for a free cup of coffee?"

Cassie chuckled, "Nice try, I know better than to feed a hungry Lane. Your brother hung around my parent's house for weeks once after my mom gave him a muffin."

Jane shrugged. "Worth a shot. Later, Cassie."

"Bye, Jane."

Just before Daria and Jane reached the door, Cassie called after them in a more excited tone, "Daria, make sure you let me know how you like the books. It's a great series."

As the girls climbed into Daria's Civic, Jane smirked. She pointed to the bag Daria threw in the backseat and asked, "You plan on spending all your paychecks before you leave the door?"

"Actually, she comped these. Called it a signing bonus." Daria started the car. "I think she just wants someone to talk about them with."

"And she wouldn't even give me a cup of coffee."

Daria pulled out onto the street and left Dega Street, driving a bit before asking, "So what happened when you went to get art supplies?"

Jane looked at the clock, saw that it was one thirty-five, and realized she hadn't eaten anything since some toast that morning. "Tell you what, I'll tell you over pizza, my treat."

**::**

Daria and Jane slid into their usual booth with their pizza and sodas. Daria took a drink of her soda then addressed her friend, "Alright, spill. What were you up to while I was talking to Cassie?"

Jane held up a hand for Daria to wait as she finished off her first slice of pizza. "Man I was hungry. Okay, I was on my way to the art store after I left you and your new boss to geek out," Daria glared at her and Jane fully ignored it, "when I ran into Ms. Defoe. She's running the backstage part of a theatre camp at the school and—"

"Tell me you didn't get suckered into helping."

"Not exactly." Daria rolled her eyes. Jane ignored her again and continued, "She has to leave town and was looking for someone to replace her. I'm going to get paid to put together a huge art project and order around high schoolers." She took a drink of her soda, then added, "A big piece like this is just what I've been looking for to get me out of my slump."

"Are you sure this is a good idea? There's more to setting up a play than the making the set," Daria offered skeptically.

"I know what I'm doing, Daria. There's a teacher directing and someone else is in charge of the technical stuff. I'm just designing the set, props, and costumes." Jane was getting defensive, and a little frustrated with Daria's attitude.

"I didn't know you knew how to sew," Daria challenged, "Plus, aren't they expecting you to actually _teach_ the students?"

"Since when do _you_ care about what other people expect?" Jane asked, her temper rising.

"I don't, but_ you _should think more before taking on a job like this." Daria snapped back. They were both quiet for a while, then Daria said in her usual monotone "Well, at the very least it's better than going back to Gary's Gallery. Who knows what new delusions you might come up with this time?"

"Yeah, I might even start to think you could actually be supportive," Jane muttered bitterly.

Daria got defensive again, "What's your problem Jane?"

"I guess I just figured that my best friend would show a little support for my new job after I _got_ her one." Jane said, her voice rising.

"Let's just eat our pizza, okay?" Daria said brusquely.

"Fine," Jane agreed, angrily grabbing another slice. After they had aggressively worked through most of the pie, Jane had cooled down. She was about to try to pick the conversation back up when Daria beat her to it.

"So," Daria hesitated a moment, "what play are they doing at this camp?"

"_A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Hmm… You could definitely do something interesting with that," Daria commented, obviously making an effort to act supportive. She then seemed to realize something and asked, "Jane, since when does Lawndale have a theatre program?"

"I wondered about that too. Ms. Defoe said that Ms. Li got some kind of fine arts grant and hired a Theatre teacher."

"At least it's not Mr. O'Neill." Daria shivered.

"Actually, it is," Jane said, holding in a smirk.

"First Quinn gives up dating and now you're willingly working with Mr. O'Neill?" Daria put a hand to her head. "Either the world's gone mad or I have," Daria sighed.

Jane let her smirk break through and continued, "It's just not _our _Mr. O'Neill. It's his cousin."

"You mean there's more of them? I always figured that he sprang fully grown from a rack of self-help books. The existence of more O'Neill's only supports my madness theory."

Jane shook her head in amusement. "Actually, Ms. Defoe says he's pretty nice. Laid back and actually knows what he's doing."

"A competent member of the Lawndale High faculty? That settles it, I've gone mad."

"Well can you give me a ride home before they re-pad the rest of your room? I've got to start planning, this thing starts next week," Jane asked as she got out of the booth.

"Alright, but don't blame me if I have a psychotic break and drive us off a cliff," answered Daria, getting up as well.

"Come on Daria, you know you need a convertible pull that off right."

**::**

As she looked out the window at the passing houses Jane remembered something. "What happened with your sister?"

"Hmm?" Daria intoned, eyes on the road.

"You said she made a big speech about being sisters. I told you to do something about it. Remember?"

"I'd rather not." Daria muttered. Jane waited as Daria drove in silence for a while. Just as she was about to say something, her friend sighed and continued, "We're watching a movie Friday night."

"What movie?" Jane asked as nonchalantly as she could, trying not to spook Daria.

Daria sighed as she pulled up to Jane's house, "I don't know. She said she has something she says is perfect for us starting to get to know each other and wouldn't take no for an answer. At least she's paying for pizza."

"Getting treated to pizza twice in one week, you're a popular girl Ms. Morgendorffer." Jane teased, getting out of the car.

"This had better be worth it Jane," Daria said in a thoughtful voice, staring out the windshield into the night.

Jane gave a soft smile. "Trust me Daria. If it works out, it will be." She closed her door and started walking towards her house.

* * *

Daria got out of her car, exhausted and smelling strongly of coffee. As she opened the front door she heard her father call out from the kitchen "Hey Quinn, your sister's not home yet."

"I'm not home? Damn, I was hoping this leap would be my last." Daria shook her head, wondering if working for a huge geek was affecting her thought process.

Jake came in from the kitchen. "Oh, hey kiddo! Sorry, I thought you were your sister."

"Yes, I gathered. Now if you'll excuse me I need to—"

Jake sniffed at the air and looked around, "What smells like coffee?"

Daria sighed, "Well, I just got back from my new job, _at a coffee shop_. So it's either that, or you started to make coffee and got distracted. You'd better go check the kitchen, just in case. Remember what happened last time?"

Jake cringed. "Right," he said, turning around and heading quickly back to the kitchen.

Having dealt with her father, Daria headed up to her room to change into some more comfortable clothes. She threw on one of her oversized sleep shirts and some shorts and went back downstairs. When she got there, Quinn was in the living room, putting a DVD in the player. Two pizzas, a 20oz soda, a bottled water, and a DVD case sat on the coffee table. Daria sat down on the couch and picked up the empty case, it read _'10 Things I hate About You'."_ It looked like just about every other formulaic teenage comedy released in the last decade. Daria sighed and opened up the pizza box in front of her, reminding herself, again, to give bonding with Quinn a fair chance. As Quinn sat down on the couch next to her, their father came out of the kitchen, headed for the front door.

"Alright girls, I'll see you later. I'm going out drinking with Anthony, so I'll see you later," he said at the door.

Daria thought for a second. "Wait, you mean Mr. DeMartino?"

"Yeah. We've been drinking buddies for a couple of years now, but I wasn't supposed to talk about it while you were still in school," Jake explained, and added in a stage whisper, "Conflict of interest."

Quinn spoke up "Umm, Dad? _I'm_ still in school."

Jakes face went ashen "Um... Did I say drinking with Anthony? What I _meant_ was—"

"It's okay daddy we won't say anything." Quinn said sweetly and shot Daria a conspiritory smile.

Daria was a little surprised, but picked up on Quinn's cue and cut in, "I don't know Quinn, I'm sure someone would pay quite a bit for that information."

Jake looked worried and a little confused. Quinn pushed, "You're right Daria, but if _someone else_ were to give us that money _now_ we would have no reason to get it from anyone else."

Jake's face lit up with understanding and he walked over to his daughters. "Hey girls, how about I pay for that pizza," he offered, pulling out two twenties.

Daria looked at the money and said, "I don't know Dad, we might go out for ice cream later, right Quinn?"

"Right," her sister played along, "and it's_ so_ expensive these days."

Jake grunted and added two more twenties. "Is this enough?"

Daria looked at Quinn, then back at Jake and nodded. Taking two of the twenties she said, "That should be fine."

Quinn took her share and added "Thanks Daddy, have fun."

Jake relaxed and, with another, "Bye girls," headed out the door.

Daria folded up the money and stuck it in the pocket of her shorts. She then turned to her younger sister. "Impressive, Quinn, well played."

"I've been doing this just as long as you have, Daria," Quinn said with a smirk that quickly softened to a genuine smile, "It's fun to work together though." She grabbed the universal remote and started setting up the movie.

Daria looked down at the case again. "Are you sure this is a good idea? It doesn't exactly seem like something we'll find a lot of common ground in."

Quinn stopped at the DVD menu and turned to face Daria. "Trust me, it's relevant. Besides, if nothing else we'll have something to talk about afterward that's not too serious, if we need it."

Daria was surprised at the amount of thought Quinn seemed to have put into this. She grabbed a slice of her meat lover's pizza, sat back, and said "Alright, let's get this over with."

**::**

The movie was about halfway through. They were in the middle of the requisite drunken party scene when Hellen got home. Quinn paused the movie and said, "Hi Mom."

"Hello, girls. Are you watching a movie, _together_?" the girls' mother asked, surprised.

Daria looked over the back of the couch at her mother. "No, we were just sitting here sleeping. The flashing lights induce such lovely nightmares."

Hellen rolled her eyes. "I'll just go grab something from the kitchen and head upstairs so I don't interrupt you," she said, ignoring her eldest daughter. As Quinn pointed the remote at the DVD player, Hellen popped back into the room and asked, "Sorry, do you girls know where your father is?"

"He went out a while ago," Quinn answered.

Hellen grumbled, "Probably out—," then caught herself. She plastered on a smile and told Quinn, "Thanks honey," before going back into the kitchen.

"No problem," Quinn replied and pressed play, the teenagers on the screen resuming their drunken revelry.

**::**

The credits started playing and Quinn muted the TV. "So," she hesitated, then continued "what did you think?"

"Well, I liked it more than the original,'" Daria admitted.

"Huh?" Quinn looked at Daria, puzzled.

"It's based on one of Shakespeare's plays, _The Taming of the Shrew_," Daria explained. "Although I wouldn't recommend it, like I said _this_ was better."

"So you didn't like it," Quinn said. She sounded a bit disappointed, but not surprised.

Daria sighed and tried to be civil. "I don't exactly watch much of this kind of market researched teenage… comedy. Pretty much all I've seen is what I've had to walk past when you and the fashion club were watching one down here. That said, this is probably better than those. It managed to take a play about breaking a woman's spirit and make it into something approximating a feminist message. Plus, it had a few decent songs."

Quinn smiled softly. "Thanks Daria. You see why I picked it though, right?"

"The parallel. The outcast older sister, the popular younger one. Though I don't think I've ever physically assaulted anyone to get them to leave me alone."

"I can think of a few times…" Quinn trailed off.

"Anyone outside my immediate family," Daria qualified.

"Anyway," Quinn started, "I think we can—"

Daria held up a hand and cut her off, "Hold on a minute, Quinn. I need to make something clear before we go any further," her voice was serious, "I am not going to change who I am. I won't become a happy, active sister over the course of a montage." She paused and looked at her sister. Quinn's face looked a little guilty, but even more frustrated. Her fists were balled up in her lap. Daria figured that Quinn must be angry about her refusal to change. It was probably a lost cause, but she decided to finish her thought anyway, "I'm open to trying to getting to know you, but that won't work if you're trying to change me. Do you understand?"

"Of course I understand, Daria," Quinn pleaded, the frustration in her voice overshadowed by pain, "I don't want to change who you are. I don't _know _who you are! That's what this is about." She threw up her arms. "I just want to get to know you and be friends. Why do you always think the worst of me?"

Daria felt a wave of guilt crash over her. Her thoughts assaulted her. Quinn was really being earnest. She had been on Saturday too, but Daria had forgotten that over the course of the week, or rather written it off as impossible. This wasn't their dynamic. One of them would want something and try to convince or blackmail the other. That was how it worked. How was she supposed to know how to deal with this? Daria suddenly realized they had been sitting in silence for several minutes. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and offered, "I'm sorry, Quinn."

Quinn seemed to snap out of her own thoughts upon hearing Daria, "Huh?"

"I said I'm sorry, Quinn. This is new. We're not nice to each other. It's hard not to think you're just trying to trick me into a makeover."

"I'm not," the younger girl interjected quickly.

"I think I'm starting to get that." They sat in silence for a while again, until Daria finally asked "So what now?"

"Well," Quinn started, tapping her chin, "how about we just talk? Like, how's your new job?"

Daria still felt a bit awkward, but went ahead, "Um… Good. I guess?"

Quinn sighed, then asked patiently, "Come on, Daria. Tell me about it. How's your boss? What's the store like? Were there any cute customers? Stuff like that."

"Well, my boss's name is Cassie, it's a bookstore with a coffee shop, and do you really think I'd notice that?" Daria listed off.

Quinn let out an exasperated sigh. "Daria, I'm not asking for a report. Just—" Quinn stopped to think for a moment "—think of me as Jane. I know you two can talk about stuff, you talk for hours sometimes. Talk to me like that. Tell me _about _what happened. Describe it." Before Daria could start Quinn added, "And I know you notice boys. It may not be conventional, but you have good taste."

Daria ignored that last bit and tried again, "Alright, my boss is Cassie Tyler." Quinn gestured for Daria to keep going. "She's the cousin of Mystik Spiral's drummer, Max. Despite that she's actually pretty cool." Daria hesitated and looked at Quinn who was listening intently. She tried to swallow her anxiety and misgivings and dove back in, "She's a huge geek. Role-playing games, science fiction and fantasy books, comics; all that stuff. There's a big wall of just that in the store, and she loves talking about it. It's actually kind of nice to have someone to talk about books with." Daria grabbed her half-empty soda and took a long pull. She didn't usually talk this much and this was making her throat sore.

"See, that was great Daria, and I'm so happy you found a good job. My job at the restaurant was okay, but it sounds like you actually like this place." Daria raised an eyebrow. "Y'know, for you. Anyway, now it's your turn. You ask me something."

Daria thought for a moment, then asked "So, Mom and Jane talked me into getting a job, what'd you get stuck doing this summer?"

"Actually, mine is my friend's fault too. Stacy talked me into this theatre thing at the school." Daria choked on her soda. Quinn sat up straight and put her hand on Daria's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Daria rasped, recovering and pushing Quinn's hand away. "I was just surprised. Jane's doing that this summer too."

Quinn leaned back into the couch. "Oh. Wait, isn't Jane too old for a school program?"

"She's teaching. Taking over for Ms. Defoe."

"Weird. Maybe Stacy will end up working with her." Quinn giggled. "Wouldn't that be funny? Our two best friends working together?"

"Why would Stacy be helping with the sets? Aren't you four all about getting attention?" Daria asked, a little of her usual judgment towards the former fashion club creeping into her tone. Quinn's face fell. Daria reprimanded herself and quickly said "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's not that. We probably have that coming," Quinn said with a bitter laugh than surprised Daria. "It's just, we're not a _we_ anymore." Daria was puzzled, and Quinn clarified, "Stacy and I aren't friends with Sandi anymore, and I have _no_ idea what's up with Tiffany. We had a huge fight last week."

Daria hesitated, then said carefully "This isn't exactly the first time this has happened, Quinn. You usually get back together in a week or two."

Quinn leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. Her gaze was fixed forward, but she didn't seem to be looking at anything in the room. "I'm pretty sure we're really done this time, Daria," she started, her voice lacking its usual perkiness. "Sandi's losing it not being in charge of everyone. I mean _really_ losing it. Like that lady who lived in your room before we moved in, losing it." She took a drink from her water. "We had a big fight, about you actually, and I left. Then Stacy decided to leave with me." Quinn showed a small smile and her voice gained a note of pride, "You should have seen her Daria. I know you think she's some pathetic nervous wreck, but she's not. She told Sandi off and Sandi couldn't even say anything back. There's no going back after that."

Daria was again stunned by her younger sister. She managed to mutter, "Um… So…" She looked at Quinn hunched over next to her and asked, "Are you okay?"

Quinn turned and gave a tired smile. "I'll be okay. I should have gotten away from her earlier, really." She chuckled. "It wasn't exactly a healthy relationship."

Daria decided not to comment on that and instead asked, "What did you mean when you said you were fighting about me?"

Quinn's muscles tensed and her voice became agitated, "She kept calling you my cousin. Which she _knows_ I hate, but she kept doing just to tick me off." She stopped, and made a visible effort to relax. "It wasn't all about you, of course. She thinks everyone is out to get her. Like, _literally_." Quinn sighed, looked at her sister, and asked, "I don't really want to go into the details right now, okay?"

Daria nodded. "Sure. Let's just go to bed."

Quinn yawned and turned off the TV. "Alright."

Daria started up the stairs and stopped halfway up. She turned down to Quinn and said, "This was… nice, Quinn. I learned a lot about you."

Quinn looked up from retrieving the DVD. "I had fun too, Daria," she replied, her voice still somewhat drained. "Do you think we can we do it again sometime?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah, but no more teen movies or I'm out."

Quinn pretended to pout, then smiled. "Fair enough. Goodnight, Daria."

"Goodnight, Quinn."

* * *

**Hey,**

**Not much to say this time. Thanks for the kind words in the comments. It's very much appreciated. Hope this lives up to chapter 1 (for those who liked it that is).**

**Edit: 8/10/15 Removed an unnecessary reference, cleaned up grammar, so on.**


	3. Chapter 3

"This is just wrong," Jane grumbled to herself as she walked through the mostly empty parking lot, "Going back to Lawndale High, on a _Sunday_." She dug the key Ms. Defoe had given her out of her pocket and opened the door. She made her way through the empty halls to the teachers' lounge and stopped outside. There were two voices coming from inside, one unfamiliar and one painfully unmistakable. Jane prayed she was wrong and opened the door.

The teacher's lounge was a depressing little room. The door opened into the left side of the room, almost hitting the cluttered bulletin board hanging on the left wall. There was a beat up fridge in the far right corner and a countertop and cabinets ran along the rest of the back wall. The right wall was covered in the teacher's inboxes, and a cafeteria table was pushed against the close wall. Two people sat in the plastic chairs placed around the table.

They stopped talking when Jane entered. "_Hello_, Ms. Lane," purred one, a familiar red haired annoyance, "I look forward to working _closely_ with you on this great thespian undertaking."

Before Jane could put Upchuck in his place, the man sitting next to him spoke up in a low, tired voice. "Chuck, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He looked to be in his early thirties and Jane would guess about five foot ten when he stood up. His face was drawn and covered in stubble and his short black hair was an unkempt mess.

"Why, Sean, I was simply greeting our—" Upchuck tried to explain.

"You were being creepy. Stop it." Shaking his head, the man added, "God, I thought Claire was kidding." He took a drink from the mug of coffee in front of him and turned to Jane. "Hi, I'm Sean O'Neill, the new theatre arts teacher, and you must be our art director. There's coffee over there–" he pointed to a pot sitting on the counter "—if you want some."

Jane made a beeline for the coffee. She grabbed a mug from an open cabinet above the coffee machine. As she poured herself some coffee, Jane replied, "You shut Upchuck up _and_ have coffee waiting for me? I like you already. Nice to meet you Sean." Jane walked over to where the man was sitting and stuck out her hand. "Jane Lane, artist extraordinaire, at your service."

Sean smirked and shook her hand, "Looking forward to working with you."

Jane took a seat on the side of Sean opposite Upchuck. "So Upchuck is doing the technical stuff?"

"That's right my artistic angel," Upchuck purred, "Ms. Li offered me this position based on the technical prowess I displayed during my daring escape performance last semester."

"What's with the nickname?" Sean asked.

"It's the reaction most women have when they first meet him," Jane explained.

Sean chuckled, then turned to Upchuck "Look, Chuck, what you do on your own time is your own business, and I trust Jane can take care of herself."

Jane steepled her fingers and gave a predatory smile. "Oh, I can."

Upchuck growled, "_Feisty!_"

Sean continued, the tiredness in his voice replaced with authority, "But if you start hitting on students we're going to have a problem. I don't care if they're only a couple of years younger than you; you're in a paid position of authority over minors and if you so much as give a sleazy look to one of the girls you will not only be fired, but I'll inform the authorities as well. Got it?"

Upchuck swallowed. "O-of course," he squeaked, then continued in a sincere voice "Really, I'm here to educate. I don't mix business and _pleasure_." He said this last word eyeing Jane.

Sean shook his head. "As long as you understand," he said, his voice tired and bored again, "now let's get to work so we can get out of here." Jane liked this man's priorities. "Obviously we're dividing the kids up into three groups: acting, stagecraft, and design." Jane and Upchuck nodded. "There will be some overlap between you two's groups, especially at the start. Just let them figure out what they want to do. If they don't want to do anything and you don't need them, just leave them alone. If they want to waste their parents' money that's their business. We have thirty-seven students so we should be able to put on a full production and still have enough people for you two, even with a couple of dropouts. Any questions so far?"

"What exactly are Ms. Lane and I responsible for? How are things divided up?" Upchuck asked.

"That's really up to you. If you want my recommendations, I'd say you should do the lights, sound, effects, and any kind of staging. Jane, you can handle the design and creation of the set, costumes, props, and makeup. Obviously you'd have more people under you."

"That sounds fine to me," Upchuck said and turned to Jane, asking in what he must have thought was a sexy voice, "How about you my raven haired collaborator?"

"It should work, but Upchuck, if we're going to be _collaborating_ all summer, you're going to want to lay off the lame come ons—" she looked him in the eye "—or my boot will be collaborating with something very important to you." She punctuated this with a swift kick to the underside of the table between Upchucks legs. "Capiche?"

Upchuck grew pale and nodded. "Yes ma'am." he squeaked meekly, hands over his crotch.

Jane smiled. "Good, glad we got that cleared up." She turned to Sean, and asked "So, about the design, exactly how much creative control do I have?"

Sean, who had been watching with idle amusement throughout the exchange, stopped to think for a moment then answered, "I'm pretty open-minded, but make sure you check with me before you get started, once you figure out what you want to do."

"I'll come up with a few ideas and run them by you tomorrow."

Sean nodded. "Sounds good. If there's nothing else—" Jane and Upchuck shook their heads "—then we can get out of here." He stood up, and the others followed suit. "Sorry for dragging you out here for such a short meeting, but I figured we should be introduced before the program actually started." He walked to the sink and started rinsing his mug and the coffee pot. As Upchuck was heading out the door and Jane was waiting to rinse her own mug, Sean seemed to remember something. "Oh, right. Bring the students back to the auditorium for the last hour or so on Monday. I want an audience for the auditions."

"Understood. Farewell, my swe—" Upchuck caught himself and instead said, "I'll see you tomorrow," in a deflated voice and left.

Jane studied Sean as he started putting the pot and mug back in the cabinet. "What, something on my face?" he asked.

Jane moved to rinse her mug. "I just can't see it." she said.

"What's that?" Sean responded.

"The family resemblance. You don't really look alike and you haven't asked me about my feelings once." She handed him the clean mug.

He took it and placed it in the cabinet. "I'll take that as a compliment. Tim's family, but there's just something wrong with him." He chuckled. "He was a great babysitter though, total pushover."

Jane tried to imagine a teenage Mr. O'Neill taking care of a young Sean and laughed as well. "Well, I'm gonna head out. Looking forward to working with you."

"Same here."

* * *

Stacy's stomach was full of butterflies as she walked into the school with Quinn. She took a couple of slow calm breaths. Everything's was fine. This was going to be fun. Everyone was not looking at her. It was alright, Quinn was there. She turned to her friend and said, "Thanks again for doing this with me Quinn."

Quinn sighed and smiled. "Stacy, that's the fifth time you've said that this morning."

"Sorry," Stacy said reflexively, flinching a bit.

Quinn shook her head. "Don't worry about it." Quinn looked around the hall and added in a whisper, "Did you get to read the play?"

Stacy nodded. She leaned in and whispered back, "Yeah, I found it online. It's great that your sister told you what it was. So what role are you trying out for, Titania?"

Quinn's voice shot back up. "With the donkey? Ew! No, I think I want to try out for Hermia."

Stacy berated herself for not thinking of that. "Of course, right. Sorry. That was dumb."

Quinn stopped walking and grabbed Stacy's shoulder. Once Stacy had stopped as well Quinn took her by both shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Stacy," she said, her voice serious, "you've got to stop this. No one is going to get mad at you. It's okay."

Stacy squirmed and avoided Quinn' gaze. "Right. Sorry." When Quinn didn't let go, Stacy took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "I'm okay Quinn."

Quinn let go and gave Stacy a quick hug. "Come on let's go, I don't wanna be late," she said and headed down the hall,

Stacy hurried to catch up. After walking for a while she asked, "Why did you choose Hermia?"

Quinn thought a moment. "I kind of relate to her, being pursued by a bunch of guys."

"But Helena's pursued by both guys too."

"I guess, but that's magic. Anyway, Hermia has less lines," Quinn said with a smile.

Stacy giggled. "I guess Shakespeare would be a little hard to memorize."

"_Totally_. I mean I get what it means when I take the time to think about it, but it's so weird," Quinn said as they came to the doors to the auditorium. She pushed the doors open and headed inside, saying, "Come on, let's go. I wanna get good seats,"

Stacy looked around the room as she walked in behind Quinn. There were about two dozen people scattered around the auditorium, some talking and quite a few reading scripts. Scanning a bit more, she saw a table in the front of the room, pushed up against the stage. On it, there were piles of paper booklets and a sign with large print reading, 'Scripts, take one'. "Oh! Quinn, over there, let's go get our scripts," she said pointing at the table.

Quinn looked to where Stacy was pointing and nodded. "Alright," she agreed, and the two started walking down to the front of the auditorium. "By the way Stacy, I love your hair down. Did you get it done? It looks a little different."

Stacy nodded and smiled at Quinn. "Yeah, I went to the hairdresser this weekend. I want it to look good now that I'm wearing it down all the time." She ran a hand through her hair. "No more pigtails," she said wistfully. As they reached the table, Stacy took a script, turned to Quinn, and asked, "So, where do you want to sit?"

Quinn looked up from scanning the script she'd just picked up and back at the seating. "I don't' know, in the middle I guess?" she replied pointing to some empty seats towards the back.

Stacy looked and bit her lip. "I don't know, I wanna make sure we can hear well."

Quinn looked over the seats again. "How about over there?" she asked, pointing to the right side where there was plenty of room towards the front.

Stacy nodded. "Yeah, that looks—"

"Hey," came a confident voice from behind. A boy who looked a year or two younger than them walked up, his attention on clearly on Quinn. He leaned on the table full of scripts and smiled at Quinn. "What's up? I'm Drake."

"Um, hi. I'm Quinn and this is Stacy," Quinn said, seeming a bit put off.

"Hi," Stacy said, waving meekly.

"Yeah, hi," the boy said dismissively. He leaned toward Quinn and asked, "So, would you like to come read some lines with me or something?"

Quinn held up the script she had just picked up. "Sorry, I haven't had a chance to read it yet." I kinda wanna look over it first," she lied in a polite but dismissive voice.

"Then how about we practice together after class, maybe over dinner?" he tried again.

Quinn sighed. She raised her voice as much as she could without shouting, to the point where everyone nearby could hear, and kindly and calmly explained, "I'm sorry, I'm not dating this summer, I'm taking some time off for myself." She then lowered her volume and addressed the boy in a critical tone, "But even if I was dating, I wouldn't date _you_. You interrupted my conversation with my friend, completely ignored her, and then didn't take the hint when I turned you down the first time." She stared at him as he stood there stunned. "Bye," she added in her usual perky voice. She grabbed Stacy's wrist and pulled her over to the seats on the right. Once they both sat down, Quinn turned to Stacy and said, "I'm _so_ sorry about that. Guys can be so pushy."

"You know, you don't have to worry about that no dating rule I made earlier, Quinn. I mean it's not exactly fair considering…"

"Stacy, I'm _glad_ you came up with that rule." Quinn slumped in her seat. "I need a break. I'm kind of tired of the whole 'game'. I'm starting to think I might not even want that anymore. Don't get me wrong, I had fun, but something that lasts more than a couple of dates might be nice, even if it's not forever. Like Daria and Tom had."

"Didn't you try that? With Joey, Jeffy, and Jerry?"

"Well, a little, but not for real. Plus, Daria was messing with me the whole time." Quinn chuckled. "Maybe it _would_ end up the same, but I don't want things to keep going like they are forever."

Stacy smiled and put her hand on Quinn's arm. "Quinn, people change. If you think you're ready for a serious relationship, then you should definitely try. If you find a good guy, please don't let my silly rule stop you."

Quinn smiled. "Okay, Stacy. Same to you though, if you find someone, you go for it too."

Stacy was about to say that she didn't think that was very likely, but stopped when someone walked onstage.

The man was dressed in black and looked a bit sloppy all around. He spoke into a microphone in a low, laid back voice that somehow still carried authority, "Hello, my name is Mr. O'Neill." He paused as there was a murmur throughout the auditorium. "Yes, we're related; and no, I'm not going to ask you how Shakespeare's work might have differed if he had been bullied as a child." He paused again, until everything was quiet. "Starting next year I will be the theatre arts teacher at Lawndale High School. This summer I will be the director for this program and this production. Assisting me will be Ms. Lane," Quinn's sister's friend Jane walked out, "and Mr. Ruttheimer." Charles walked out to boos and a few hurled scraps of paper. Mr. O'Neill cleared his throat and, after a moment, things died down. "I am aware that Mr. Ruttheimer has a somewhat _questionable_ history, but he knows what he's doing when it comes to stagecraft. I can assure you that he will be perfectly behaved," he turned to Charles, his tone harder, "as he knows what will happen if he is not." Charles visibly shivered.

Mr. O'Neill continued, "Ms. Lane, Mr. Ruttheimer, and myself will each be in charge different aspects of the production. Ms. Lane will be in charge of designing and creating the sets, costumes, makeup, and props, Mr. Ruttheimer will be in charge of the lighting, sound, effects, and stage management, and I will be in charge of the actors. Over the course of this week you will figure out the section you wish to work in, although there will be some overlap. Auditions will be held during the last hour of today's class, everyone will attend, whether they are trying out or not, to provide an audience for our actors." He looked at the other two people on stage. "Anything to add?"

Jane stepped up and took the mic. "Yo! I'm Ms. Lane. I'd ask you to call me Jane, but every teacher that ever asked me to do that turned out to be a touchy-feely weirdo." There were a few chuckles. "Like Mr. O'Neill said, I'm in charge of the artistic side of things. I don't care if you think you're the next Van Gogh, or if the most advanced art you've done is in a coloring book, I'll find something for you to do. I'll be in the art room." She handed the microphone back to Mr. O'Neill and threw up her arm in a wave as walked off stage.

Mr. O'Neill seemed unfazed by Jane's rather informal greeting and turned to Charles. "Mr. Ruttheimer?"

"Thank you, Mr. O'Neill," Charles said, taking the mic with a nod. He turned to the class. "Good morning students. I am Mr. Ruttheimer. I will be in charge of instructing you in the intriguing world of stagecraft. As many of you know, I have years of experience with the technical arts. I have worked as the announcer for our own Lawndale Lions—"

A few cries of "Go Lions!" came from the crowd.

Charles smiled. "Indeed. As I was saying, among other things I am a professional DJ and stage magician, having performed a _daring_ escape performance in this very auditorium. I look forward to passing my vast knowledge to those of you who wish to work behind the scenes. I will be waiting in that far corner." He pointed to the back right of the auditorium. "Thank you," he finished and bowed with a flourish before handing the mic back to Mr. O'Neill and heading to the corner.

Mr. O'Neill addressed the group again, "Well, you heard them. If you're here to act just stay in the auditorium, read the play, pick a part, and learn it as best you can. We'll be reading from the scripts, so you don't have to know the lines by heart." He started to turn, then turned back and added, "Oh yes, you should at least look at the other parts in case I ask you to read for a different character." He turned around again, saying, "Good luck," as he walked backstage.

Everyone in the room started talking and heading in different directions. Quinn turned to Stacy and said, "Well I guess this where we split up. I know you'll do great Stacy. Have fun."

"Thanks, Quinn, you too," Stacy said. The girls hugged and Stacy headed towards Charles, calling, "Good luck!" over her shoulder.

"You too!" Quinn called back.

As she approached, Stacy immediately noticed that there was only one other girl in the corner where Charles was waiting. She looked like a freshmen, too. Stacy guessed that was probably unavoidable considering the teacher.

As they waited for everyone to decide where they wanted to go, Stacy looked down at where Quinn was sitting. She saw a boy walk up and then shortly leave, his shoulders slumped and giggled.

"Ah, Ms. Rowe." Stacy jumped at Charles' voice. "I'm apologize, I didn't mean to startle you."

Stacy looked around, people were still wandering around figuring out what to do. "It's fine, I was just… daydreaming."

"An activity I enjoy thoroughly myself." He gave a leering grin, then quickly lost his smile and darted his eyes around. After a moment, he seemed to calm down and wiped his brow. "Sorry about that. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that it's a pleasure to see you continue to pursue your interest in the performing arts, but I must admit that I'm a bit perplexed as to why you aren't going on stage. You put on a wonderful performance as my assistant."

Stacy tilted her head in confusion at Charles' jumpy behavior for a moment before rattling off her response, "Well, I enjoyed being your assistant a lot, and I since the school actually _has_ a theatre program now I thought I'd try to get involved in it." She took a breath. "And I figured that if I wanted to get involved in theatre I should really know about all the aspects of theatre, not just acting, so I decided to try out technical theatre, but Mr. O'Neill said we could overlap, so maybe I'll try some of the design stuff too." Stacy panted, catching her breath.

Charles looked at her appraisingly for a while, stroking his chin in thought. Just as Stacy was starting to feel creeped out he said, "Ms. Rowe, I must say I am very pleased at your interest in stagecraft. Let me to ask you a question: You are the secretary of the fashion club, correct?"

"Um, yes. I was."

"Excellent. I ask because I want to offer you a very important position that I think you're perfect for. I want you to be our stage manager. My right hand woman, if you would, as well as the director's. You would be in charge of recording all of the sound, lighting, and set change cues, the blocking, calling lines during rehearsals, taking notes, and coordinating everything during the show. I know it's a lot of work, but I think you can do it. You would, however, obviously be too busy to also help Ms. Lane. What do you think?"

Stacy's brain was overloading. "Um, shouldn't you wait to see what everyone else can do?" She pointed to the people gathering in the corner.

"While some of them may be trustworthy, and possibly even more skilled, I believe you are the best choice because I've had the pleasure of working with you before and _know _you're trustworthy. It may not sound fair, but this is an important job and you're the one I trust to do it."

Stacy gulped, sweating. "Can I have a minute?"

"Of course. I was planning to wait about fifteen minutes for everyone to decide which path they wish to pursue."

"Thanks," Stacy said and sunk into a nearby seat. Okay, that's a lot of stuff to do. A lot of it sounds like Fashion Club secretary duties though, I'm good at taking notes. But can I be in charge of people? Isn't that what I'm working on, exerting myself? What if I mess up? Everyone would be counting on me. No, that's true of everything in theatre. I can do this.

Stacy took a few deep breaths and looked around. She looked at Quinn. She was reading lines with some girl. She looked over to where Charles was. It looked like people were settling in. She stood up and walked over to him. "Mr. Ruttheimer," she said firmly, "I'll do it."

**::**

Stacy was following Charles around the auditorium, as he gave her and the other four members of his group a tour.

Charles was lecturing as they went, "This the one of several speakers, all of which will be controlled by Greg"—he gestured to the short, heavy, sophomore who would be handling the sound—"during the performance. We won't be micing the actors, but there will be—" Everyone grabbed their ears as feedback poured out of the speaker.

Stacy looked up at the stage and saw Jane standing there wincing. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Jane say, "Ouch! I guess it's on then." The lanky artist looked around the auditorium and continued, "Sorry about that. So, we have a _tiny_ problem over in the art department…" she looked right and left over the students, "Does anyone know how to sew?"

There was a brief silence as everyone finished recovering from the feedback. Mr. O'Neill walked out from behind stage, looking very much like he had just woken up, and took the mic from Jane. "Excuse us a moment," he told the students, then turned off the mic. The two teachers started talking to each other in hushed tones, Jane occasionally making sweeping arm gestures.

Stacy wanted to speak up; she loved to sewing. She'd learned in middle school when Sandi had started getting into fashion, trying to impress her. She had gotten pretty good at making cute little bags and accessories, but Sandi had said they were stupid and told her that only name brand things mattered. She stopped sewing for a while after that, but found that it had been helping her relax and so continued in secret. She'd improved a lot over the years, and had designed and made some really cute clothes. She'd never worn them outside her room though. It didn't matter anyway, because she was going to be way too busy to help with all this stage manager stuff. She was still nervous about the problem however, and watched to see if anyone else volunteered.

Eventually, Jane and Mr. O'Neill seemed to come to some kind of decision. Mr. O'Neill turned the mic back on and addressed the auditorium, "Alright people, as Ms. Lane said, we have a problem. We have no budget for premade costumes, as _apparently_ a large part of the money from our theatre grant is being used for new digital security cameras." There was generally unsurprised grumbling throughout the students. "This means that we need students to design and make the costumes. It doesn't have to be anything intricate," Stacy noticed Jane scowl at this, "but it will require at least some sewing experience." He paused and scanned the room. "Anyone?"

A tall girl with a long black ponytail slowly raised her hand, clearly not confident. As if encouraged, a pudgy blonde girl followed suit. Eventually, a boy with a heavy tan and dark hair stood up, his friends giving him a hard time.

Mr. O'Neill's face didn't betray any emotion, but Jane's was full of frustration and disappointment. The director waved them to the stage, asking, "Anyone else?"

Stacy fretted. She was worried about the play. Those three didn't look too confident. Of course _she _wasn't too confident either. She thought she could do a good job, she'd been sewing for a long time. But helping would mean she had to show her work to other people. People who would judge it. Stacy took a deep breath and forced herself to stop that train of thought. What would Quinn tell her? Definitely that she could do it. Right, she could do this.

As the three volunteers reached the stage Stacy called out, "Wait!" her voice squeaking, but carrying. Everyone went silent and looked up at her. Suddenly extremely tense again, she froze in place. After winning a struggle with her nerves she managed to say, "Um, I can sew."

Charles turned to her. "Ms. Rowe, it's very noble of you to volunteer, but—as I said before—you'll be quite busy with your current duties."

Stacy realized he was right; she hadn't been thinking. She looked back down at the stage. The whole room was watching. She'd already offered, going back and letting everyone down would be wrong too. Her chest tightened and she looked back and forth from the stage to Charles. From somewhere in her panic, a solution occurred to her. She took another deep breath to calm herself and faced Charles, speaking clearly, "It's just about time right, not having enough?" He nodded, a confused look on his face. "What if I did most of the costume work at home? You know just met and talked about the design here."

Charles stroked his chin. "Well, I suppose that could work. But, are you certain you can handle all this?"

Stacy nodded firmly. Everyone was still looking at her, she couldn't back down. "I can do it."

"Wonderful," came Mr. O'Neill's dull voice over the speakers, "Mr. Ruttheimer can you spare her for a while, while we discuss the costume arrangements?"

Charles nodded. "Certainly, Mr. O'Neill."

"Great." Mr. O'Neill turned to Stacy. "Well, come on down so we can discuss things."

Stacy gave a quick nod to, Mr. O'Neill. She turned to Charles and said, "Thanks," before quickly sprinting down to the stage. Once there Jane and Mr. O'Neill ushered her and the others backstage.

Mr. O'Neill turned to Jane. "I assume you can take things from here?"

Jane still looked frustrated about something, but it didn't show in her voice, "Yeah, I've got things here. You go ahead and get back to your nap." She shot him a sarcastic grin.

Mr. O'Neill gave a small smirk. "I think I'll do that," he said and headed for the door leading to the hallway. Turning as he left the room, he added, "Oh, and Ms. Lane? Please don't try to turn the microphone on again. That's a terrible way to wake up."

Jane chuckled and turned to the four students. "Sane people really don't go into teaching, do they?" She seemed to wait for some kind of response for a moment, then shook her head and continued more seriously, "Alright, what are your names and what do you know how to do?"

The blonde girl spoke up in a cheery voice, "Hi. My name's Claire. I don't have that much experience; I mostly make stuffed animals and fix tears in my clothes. If someone shows me how, I can probably do more. I'm a fast learner."

Jane's crossed her arms and nodded, her face neutral. "Anyone else?" No one spoke up. Just as Stacy was about to say something, Jane let out a sigh. "Alright, if none of you feel like introducing yourselves we'll just go in the order you volunteered," Jane said, a little frustration creeping into her voice. She pointed at the dark haired girl. "You spoke up first, what can you do?"

The girl seemed a bit taken aback. She ran a hand over her hair and replied, "I haven't been sewing very long. I've made some basic stuff, like pajama pants and simple top. I should be able to follow a pattern if it's not too complicated." After a second, she quickly added, "I'm Liz, by the way."

Jane nodded. "Well that's something anyway." She turned and pointed at the tanned boy. "How about you?"

"My name's Davis. I don't really know much about sewing. I just know how to patch stuff up." He scratched the back of his head and smiled. "I've got four younger siblings and end up having to fix their clothes a lot."

Jane smiled and seemed to lose some of her tension. She turned to Stacy and asked, "Well, now we come to our dramatic last minute volunteer. What can you do _Ms. Rowe_?"

Stacy wrung her hands as everyone stared at her. She gave a tiny wave. "Um… Hi. I'm Stacy, Stacy Rowe." She blushed, and quickly continued, "I guess you knew that though. I mean my last name, why would you know my first name? I guess you _might, _I mean we go to the same—" She stopped herself when she saw Jane role her eyes and start impatiently tapping her foot. She started sweating, "Right, sewing," she hesitated, then continued in a less than confident voice, "Well, I can make bags, and accessories, and stuffed animals, and little things like that." Jane gave a small sigh and her shoulders slumped. Stacy quickly added, "But I can make clothes and stuff too. I don't know if I'm any good though. I mean, I've never shown anyone anything I made. Except for my mom, but moms don't count because they have to tell you you're good. Well, I guess they don't _have_ to. Sandi's mom certainly doesn't, but my mom is always nice to me. Unless I—"

Jane grabbed Stacy's shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Stop," she commanded in a firm voice, adding in a less serious tone, "For the love of all that is good, please, stop."

Stacy caught her breath, then blushed when she realized she'd rambled on like that. Her blush deepened when she realized how close Jane was. She managed to squeeze out a meek, "Sorry."

Jane let go of the beet-faced girl, then ran her hand through her hair. "Just try not to freak out like that again." She smirked and added, "I hate having to act like a responsible adult, it makes me worry I'm turning into one." Her voice fell a bit as she asked "So what kind of clothes can you sew, just basic stuff from patterns like her?" She pointed at Liz.

Stacy took a moment to recover and then responded, "No. Well, yes. I _can _do that, but I can do other stuff too. I've designed some really cute outfits. Like this one dress—"

Jane cut in, "Wait, you designed them? Like drew them up yourself?"

"Um, yeah." Stacy blushed again.

Jane's face lit up and she excitedly asked, "Do you think you could design a costume from a sketch?"

Stacy squirmed a bit under all the attention. "I don't know. Maybe? I'd have to see it I guess."

Jane glanced around the backstage area, looking for something. "Must have left it in the art room," she muttered. She turned to Stacy and said, "Come with me."

As Jane started to turn, Claire spoke up in a cheery hopeful voice, "Ms. Lane, what do you want us to do?" She gestured to Liz and Davis, smiling.

"Huh?" Jane seemed to snap out of something. She turned back to fully face her students. "Oh, right. You," she pointed to Liz, "come with us. You two," she waved a hand at Claire and Davis, "Go on back. I'll let you know if I need you." She then promptly swiveled around and headed for the hallway at a brisk pace.

Liz and Stacy hurried to catch up to Jane, while Claire and David returned to the auditorium. As they walked down the hallway Liz asked Stacy, "So how long have you been sewing? It sounds like you're pretty advanced."

Everything was moving really fast, and it was keeping Stacy on edge. She took a deep breath and took a moment to clear her head, trying to push out some of the stress. "Sorry, I don't do well with stress. It's actually the main reason I sew." She smiled sadly. "I've been sewing since middle school, so around five years. How about you?"

"Wow, that's amazing. I've only been sewing for a few of months. I've hardly had any time though, with school and studying."

Stacy nodded. "I know, between school and club duties I never have much time either."

"What club are you in?"

"I'm the secretary of the fashion club." Stacy said without thinking. Her face fell, and she continued in a quieter voice, "_Was_ the secretary of the fashion club. Former fashion club."

"So the soldiers of satin are no more? I'll have to see if I can get Daria to own up to that bet," Jane called from up ahead, without slowing her stride. "Did your leader gain a few pounds again, or was it a zit this time?"

Stacy giggled, surprising herself.

Jane's grin could be heard in her voice as she walked ahead, "Well, whatever it was, it seems like you at least got a sense of humor out of it." They rounded a corner and reached the art room. Jane pulled open the door and hurried to a sketchbook sitting on Ms. Defoe's desk, ducking through tables and easels with practiced ease.

Liz and Stacy followed her more carefully, trying not to disturb any of the students drawing or painting throughout the room. As they reached Jane, Liz asked, "What are they doing?"

Jane answered without looking up from her sketches, "They're making art." Jane said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right, but it doesn't look like it has anything to do with the play."

Jane sighed and looked up at the girl. "How else am I supposed to know who to trust with the important stuff and who to have do the grunt work? Look, you don't need to worry about that. You two just need to look at this." She pointed to the colored sketch she had opened the book to.

Stacy studied the picture. It was mesmerizing. Some sort of forest, but the trees weren't like anything she'd ever seen. The other plants too, bushes and vines, everything was smooth and twisting around with sharp edges. It almost seemed to be moving. The colors were vibrant. Most of the plants were unnatural looking shades of cyan, but there were others in colors that contrasted them. She noticed a few crimson trees winding through, a few bushes or shrubs in different shades of violet, and some gorgeous fuchsia and white flowers. In the shadows stood what must be fairies. They were dressed in bolder hues of the same colors of the forest and their skin was painted in bright colors.

"It's beautiful," Stacy uttered in an awe, accidentally speaking her thoughts aloud.

Jane seemed a little surprised. "Thanks. It's not my first choice, but it'll work."

Liz looked up from the sketch "Not your first choice?"

"Yeah," Jane said with a touch of bitterness in her voice, "Mr. Director thought it was too 'avant-garde' for a school production."

"What was it?" Stacy asked, now curious about Jane's other work.

Jane grabbed the sketchbook and started flipping through it. "Well, I wanted to try to do something different without changing the text. So I tried to think of other situations where freaky outside forces influence a primitive society, and then it came to me—" she found the page she was looking for and set the book down "—post-apocalyptic mutants!"

The page was dominated by green, yellow, and brown. There was a bomb shelter with 'Athens' written on it next to a polluted warped forest, not completely unlike the one in other sketch. Strange creatures with extra arms and weird lumps hid in the forest, while people clad in rags argued outside.

An uncomfortable silence started to grow. Stacy gathered her courage and spoke up, "Um… I like the art. But—" she tried to think of a nice way to put it, then had an idea "—wouldn't it be hard to make those costumes? I don't really know anything about extra arms."

Jane stroked her chin in thought, "Hmm… You know, I hadn't thought of that. I wonder if I could rig something up?"

Much to Stacy's relief, Liz interrupted Jane's musings, "But, didn't Mr. O'Neill already say you couldn't do it this way?"

"Hm? Oh, right. I guess, we'd better figure out these costumes then." Jane picked the sketchbook back up and flipped past the forest to some sketches of people. "This one's for Oberon, what do you think?"

Stacy brushed back her hair as she leaned over the sketchbook. Oberon looked like some kind of space alien from one of those old TV shows, but not as cheesy. His skin was red with some dark spots and he had short, swept back black hair. He wore a dark red cape over a short burgundy tunic that was cut like one of those kung fu top thingies and showed a lot of chest. His legs were covered in burgundy tights, and he wore a pair of rust colored long boots, long gloves, and a thick belt. Two antennae curved back over his scalp from his forehead.

Stacy studied the sketch and thought for a while. "Alright, this one shouldn't be too hard. The tights are easy, we can just buy those. Gloves I can make no problem. The belt and boots I think I can make some kind of cover to slip over a normal one." She paused to breathe and try to push away some anxiety. Recovered, she continued, "I've never made a cape, but that can't be hard. It's just a big piece of cloth. The tunic thing is the only part that might be a problem. I think I can make it, but we need to talk about exactly how you want it to open and sit. I don't know about the antennae things though."

Jane and Liz stared at Stacy, surprised looks on their faces. Just as Stacy was starting to freak out, Jane spoke up, "Wow, who would have guessed that someone from the fashion club would know something _useful_ about clothing? I thought you girls just knew how to copy the pretty pictures in the magazines."

"Ms. Lane!" Liz gasped, and stared at her teacher.

Jane looked at Stacy who was shaking and starting to tear up. She quickly began backpedaling, "Sorry! I'm sorry! Old habits. What I meant to say was, I'm impressed. You're confident and you actually seem to know what you're talking about. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm looking forward to working with you."

Stacy felt a warm pride inside, being praised by someone. She managed to calm down and looked up at Jane with a shy, hesitant smile.

Jane nervously looked away and continued, "And don't worry about the antennae, I was planning to make those myself." She turned to the next page in the sketchbook. "This is the one I'm most worried about, Titania."

Stacy took a second to finish collecting herself and picked up the sketchbook. Titania was slightly shorter than Oberon and extremely thin, she had waist length blonde hair, and her skin was a soft blue-green with darker blue markings. She wore a backless turquoise dress, accented with white, and a flowing skirt. She had ankle boots and long gloves that matched her dress, the color slightly darker. A pair of antennae, like Oberon's but smaller, swept back from her forehead.

"Hmm… Well obviously the dress is the hard part. Like I said with Oberon, the gloves—"

Stacy was cut off as Mr. O'Neill's voice came over the PA system. "Alright people, it's time for auditions. Everybody come back to the auditorium to watch so I don't get stuck with a lead with stage fright."

"He's very…" Liz trailed off.

Stacy nodded in agreement. "Yeah…"

Jane turned around to her students. "Alright kiddies, you heard the director. Make sure your name's on your work and set it on the far table, then get to the auditorium. If your name's not on something you've volunteered for heavy labor." Jane turned back to Stacy and Liz. "We'll have to finish this later, let's go." She grabbed her sketchbook from Stacy and started towards the door, the other two girls following in her wake.

As they entered the hallway, Liz asked, "Ms. Lane, we do actually have _some_ budget for costumes, right?"

"Not much," Jane replied, scowling, "Budget cuts. Never thought I'd say that; I feel dirty."

The other two girls laughed. Liz continued, "Okay. Don't get mad, but do you know anything about buying fabric?"

Jane stopped in place and Stacy nearly bumped into her. "Huh. You know, I hadn't thought of that."

Stacy stepped away from Jane's back and walked around to her side. "I can give you some tips; I know a place with some great deals."

Jane let out a breath and started walking again. "Great, when are you free this weekend?"

Stacy tripped and almost fell, but Jane caught her. She was fast and surprisingly strong, and close again. Very close. Stacy blushed and put some distance between Jane and herself. "Th-thanks."

Jane smirked. "Can't have my best seamstress breaking an arm, can I?" She turned to Liz. "No, offense."

Liz shook her head. "None taken."

The girls started walking again after Stacy caught her breath. Jane turned to Stacy. "So, when are you free?"

Her heart still racing, Stacy tried to clarify, "I-I meant I could tell you about them; you don't have to take me with you."

Jane looked at Stacy dubiously. "Somehow I really doubt I can manage half as well as someone who's been doing this for five years."

Stacy laughed nervously. She was embarrassed and not entirely sure why she'd tied to avoid going with Jane in the first place. "Yeah, I guess that kinda makes sense, huh?" She managed a smile. "Sorry, I just didn't want to make you go out of your way taking me. If you really want me to go with you, I think there's a sale on Saturday."

"Great, I'll pick you up at noon." A bit of harshness crept into her voice as she added, "I'm glad that's all it was. I was worried it was stupid fashion club 'don't be seen with losers' rule."

Stacy nearly tripped again. Once she was sure she wasn't going to fall, she hurriedly tried to clarify, "No! No, I just didn't want to bother you." After a pause, she quietly added, "I'm done with all that."

Jane quirked an eyebrow, "Done with what, exactly?"

Stacy took a deep breath, and spoke clearly, "I'm done with judging people"—her voice grew angrier and louder as she went on—"I'm done with the fashion club, I'm done with stupid popularity rules, I'm done with _Sandy_, and I'm done pretending I'm—" Stacy quickly covered her mouth before she could continue. In a barely audible voice she added, "Maybe I'm not quite done with that last one."

Before Jane could reply, Liz piped up. "Sorry to interrupt, but we're here."

Stacy looked up, surprised to see that they were already at the doors to the auditorium. Glad for the interruption, she quickly said, "I'm gonna go find Quinn," and started into the room.

Jane called after her, "Wait! I need your info so we can meet up."

Stacy stopped and turned around to walk back, when Liz pointed out, "Ms. Lane, the program meets all week long. It's only Monday, you can just get it from her later." Stacy silently thanked her new friend.

Jane sighed dramatically and turned to Liz. "You just had to remind me I'd be here all week, didn't you?" Turning back to Stacy, Jane said, "Fine, fine. Run off and leave me." Stacy stood in place, unsure. Jane shook her head. "Seriously, go. I'll see you tomorrow." She made a shooing motion with her hands.

Stacy nodded and said, "Thanks, see you tomorrow." She turned around and pushed the door open. She scanned the auditorium and quickly found Quinn sitting with a small group of students. She jogged down to her and called out, "Quinn!"

Quinn looked up from her script and called back, "Stacy! Come here!"

Stacy walked the rest of the way and sat down in an empty chair next to Quinn. She turned to the people sitting around her friend and gave a small wave. "Hi. I'm Stacy."

Something seemed to register with the smaller of the two boys in the group and he commented, "Hey, you're the sewing girl."

Stacy shrunk in her seat, Quinn scowled at him, and the boy next to him slapped him in the back of the head. The boy who had hit him introduced himself, "Nice to meet you Stacy. I'm Steven and this knucklehead"—he ruffled the smaller boys black hair—"is my younger brother Alex. He's a bit unrefined, but he didn't mean any harm." In a more stern voice he added, "Did, you Alex?"

Alex rubbed the back of his head and grinned. "Nah. Sorry if I upset you. I'm not too good with words; feel free to let me know if I say something stupid." He smiled and added "It's cool that you had the guts to stand up in front of everyone like that though. You should have tried out for the play instead of doing that tech stuff."

Stacy had recovered by this point and gave a small smile. "Um… Thanks, I guess." She took a moment to look at the two boys. They both had slightly curly black hair and blue eyes. They didn't look familiar, but Steven looked like he was her age. Which was weird, because he definitely would have been on the fashion clubs datable list.

The pretty blonde girl sitting on the other side of Quinn interrupted Stacy's thoughts. "Hi, I'm Gwen. It's nice to meet you." She stretched a hand over Quinn, offering a handshake.

Stacy shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

The last member of the group, a short haired brunette, started to say something when the lights dimmed. A spotlight came on and followed Mr. O'Neill as he walked to the center of the stage. "Alright, people. You've all had plenty of time to go over the script, now it's time to see what you've got. To make things easier, I want everyone trying out for the same part trying out for the same part sitting together." He started pointing to different parts of the auditorium as he went on. "Oberon here, Titania and any other female fairies there, Puck there, Bottom and any other mechanicals over there, Lysander and Demetrius up here, Hermia and Helena there, and everyone else over there. Audience, you fill in the middle. There are sheets in each section, write down your name and first and second choice roles."

The lights came back up and people began to scramble around the auditorium getting to the right area. Stacy looked around at the chaos and was suddenly very glad she was already sitting in the center. She turned to Quinn, who was getting up and said, "Good luck Quinn, not that you need it."

Quinn squeezed past Stacy with an anxious smile on her face. "Thanks, and I'll take all the luck I can get. Some of these guys are really good."

As Quinn headed down to her section Liz walked up. "Mind if I sit down? I don't really know anyone here."

Stacy smiled. "Sure."

"Thanks, is that your friend?"

"Yeah, her names Quinn. I'll introduce you later."

"Cool." The lights dimmed again. "Guess we should be quiet."

Stacy nodded.

* * *

Quinn was getting anxious. Mr. O'Neill had been stopping to explain what was going on in the play, and what words meant all night. Worse, he had called up several people to read for Hermia, but hadn't called _her_ yet. The people on stage finally finished and Mr. O'Neill walked onstage to call the next scene. He consulted his clipboard, "Alright, Davis as Demetrius, Marcus as Lysander, Greta as Helena, and Quinn as Hermia. Start from Hermia's entrance. Act three, scene two, line one hundred eighty." With that, he walked back down to the audience.

Quinn flipped through her playbook as she headed for the stage. She found the scene; she had the first line. Once onstage, she took a deep breath to calm her heart, which was beating like crazy. She ran up to the others onstage and stopped. "Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, the ear more quick of apprehension makes. Wherein it doth impair—"

A call came from the front row. "Like, boo! Boo!"

Quinn couldn't see who it was from the stage because of the lights. She faltered for a second, flashing back to that horrible renaissance fair, but pushed those thoughts back and forced herself to continue. "—the seeing sense, it pays the hearing double—"

"Yeah," came a second voice, stretching its vowels, "Booo!"

Quinn had balled up her fists and was about to lose it, when Mr. O'Neill stood up and called out, "Stop, stop." He walked over to where the booing had come from and addressed the people sitting there, "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?"

The first voice responded, "I would think that would be obvious. We are expressing our distaste for this pitiful performance." Now that she wasn't in the middle of performing, Quinn immediately recognized the familiar, haughty female voice.

"Yeah, pitiful," stretched out the second voice, its owner equally obvious.

Mr. O'Neill's voice grew sterner than usual. "First of all, there will be no booing in this program. It's not constructive and only serves to slow things down." He stepped back and addressed the whole auditorium. "Is that understood?" There was a general murmur of acknowledgement from the crowd and Mr. O'Neill returned his focus to the girls. "Second—" He stopped and sniffed audibly. "What is that smell?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," answered Sandi.

Mr. O'Neill looked between the girls, "What's in that bag?"

Quinn squinted against the stage lights and managed to make out some kind of bag sitting open between Sandi and Tiffany in the front row. "Um… That's my lunch," Sandi answered. "Why is it a crime to bring your own lunch in this theatre thing?"

"Sandi, ew. That turkey is so greasy. How could you eat it?" Tiffany asked.

"Shut up, Tiffany."

Mr. O'Neill cut in. "Alright, that'll be quite enough. Who are you and why have you brought a backpack full of—" he grabbed the bag and looked in "—_turkey legs_ into my theater?" Quinn started shaking. Turkey legs, like the renaissance fair. Was Sandi planning to throw those at her?

Sandi raised her voice accusingly, "Like, why don't you tell me who you are first? I was told Mr. O'Neill was in charge of this _thing_. I'm don't have anything to say to some assistant_._" Quinn couldn't help but laugh, her anger and anxiety draining off.

Mr. O'Neill just stood there staring at the girl. Quinn took the opportunity to speak up. "Mr. O'Neill, I think I can explain."

"Please do Ms.—" he looked at his clipboard, "—Morgendorffer."

Quinn walked to the edge of the stage. "These two are Sandi Griffin and Tiffany Blum-Deckler. They're some _ex_-friends of mine who are trying to mess up my audition."

Mr. O'Neill nodded. "Well, that explains the booing, but what about the turkey legs?"

"Excuse me," Sandi interrupted, "Are you just going to believe her? What about my side?"

Mr. O'Neill sighed and hung his head. "You wouldn't _tell_ me 'your side'. Ms. Morgendorffer, please continue."

As Sandi sputtered indignantly, Quinn explained, "Well, a couple of years ago the school held a renaissance fair. Mr. O'Neill, your cousin, put on a play. There were… problems—" Quinn shuddered involuntarily, "—and we ended up getting booed off the stage…"

Mr. O'Neill sighed again. "That sounds like him. But what about the turkey legs."

Quietly, Quinn responded, "It was _dinner _theatre."

Mr. O'Neill cringed. "Of course." He spun around to face Sandi and Tiffany. "So, let me see if I've got this straight. You snuck into my program in order to boo my actors and pelt them with turkey legs?"

Sandi crossed her arms, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I don't have time for this." He turned to where Jane was sitting. "Ms. Lane call the police and tell them what's happened." Off to the side someone got up and hurried out of the auditorium. Quinn wasn't sure, but she thought she heard them laughing.

"You can't do this! I haven't broken any laws!" Sandi protested.

"Um, Sandi, I don't want to go to jail. Horizontal stripes make me look fat," Tiffany added.

Mr. O'Neill voice was firm. "Young ladies, you have harassed my students and are currently trespassing. They may not arrest you, but I'm definitely making sure this is on record."

Sandi stood up. "Well, I'm certainly not going to stand here and take this. Come on Tiffany, we're leaving."

"Please do; I'd like to get back to rehearsals." As they walked out Mr. O'Neill added, "I'm sure the cameras my grant money paid for got everything." He turned back to the stage and said, "Alright people, from Hermia's entrance."

Quinn took a deep breath to calm herself, only to realize that she felt great. Sandi's plan had completely backfired; getting all that stuff about that other play out had totally gotten rid of her nerves. She smiled confidently and began.

* * *

**Hello readers,**

**Finals, sick, blah, blah, blah. I've got plenty of good excuses why this took longer, but I don't really want to use them because I'm not making any promises for future deliveries. I hope this and future chapters are worth the wait.**

**This one has been a bit of a bear. Apparently I'm much more comfortable with writing people who have actually ****_spoken_**** to each other in the show. This is mostly groundwork stuff too, which is much less fun than actual character growth.**

**Well, let me know what you think. I always appreciate reviews, even if they're not good. No pressure if you don't review though; I've certainly lurked in enough stories over the years without saying anything. Thanks for reading, regardless.**

**Edit: 8/11/15 Word choice, a little grammar and punctuation.**


	4. Chapter 4

Quinn turned to Daria as they pulled away from the house. "Thanks again for giving Stacy and I a ride school, Daria."

Daria kept her eyes on the road. "I'm giving Jane a ride because she has to bring some stuff to school. You two are just lucky you're going to the same place."

"Well thanks anyway," Quinn said. She quietly watched the houses go by for a few minutes, then ventured, "So, how's work?"

"It's work, Quinn. Believe it or not, it hasn't changed in the one day I've been there since you last asked."

"Oh, sorry," Quinn replied, cowed.

Daria sighed. "Sorry, Quinn, it's early." She paused, then continued, "I suppose you want me to ask you how your day in the theatre program was?"

Quinn tried not to show how much she did, managing to look away and say, "Well, if you're curious…"

"Fine." Daria faked a peppy, interested voice, "'How was your day Quinn?'"

Quinn ignored her sister's sarcasm and started talking excitedly. "Well, I spent most of the day reading the play, but I met some really cool people. Not y'know _cool_ cool, like popular, but cool like they didn't care what people thought. Confident. There are these two brothers who just moved here, Steven and Alex; they're totally into theatre. Steven is totally cute—"

"I thought you weren't dating this summer?" Daria accused.

"God, Daria, I'm not dating, but I'm not dead. Besides— No never mind. What was I saying?"

"You were making an obvious attempt to cover up a slip, but why don't you just tell me what you and your new friends tried out for."

Quinn blushed. She was embarrassed at being caught out, but happy that Daria was letting it go. She really was trying. "Well," she said, "I tried out for Hermia—"

"A girl pursued by all the men around her, seems appropriate."

"I thought so. Anyway, Alex was trying out for Puck, and Steven tried out for Bottom. But Mr. O'Neill asked him to read Oberon's lines a lot in the audition, so maybe he'll get that. He's really good."

"And how were you?" Daria asked as she pulled up to Jane's house.

Quinn faltered. "My audition was…"

Daria waited for a moment, then got out of the car. "Right, you try to figure that out while I go get Jane." Halfway up the walk she added, "And get in the back, Jane gets shotgun."

Quinn got out of the car and pushed the seat forward so she could climb in the back. Two door cars were way cuter than four door ones, but they were really annoying to get in and out of. She sat in the back for several minutes while Daria waited at the Jane's front door. Finally, Jane appeared, holding a large travel mug of what had to be coffee in her left hand and a lumpy, heavy looking duffel bag in her right. Daria and Jane walked out to the car and Daria popped the trunk for Jane. After the weird bag was in the trunk, the two climbed in the car. "Hi," Quinn offered.

"Mnh." Jane said and took a pull from her mug.

"You'll have to excuse Jane," Daria explained, "She has a hereditary condition that keeps her from speaking before she's had her morning coffee."

Jane put her mug in the cup holder. "More of an occupational hazard really. A great artist never gets up before noon without a good reason," she corrected groggily.

Daria turned on the car and looked back at Quinn. "2401 Willow, right?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, thanks again Daria."

Daria pulled away from the Lanes'. "Like I said, you're just lucky I was already giving Jane a ride. Don't expect me to drive you every time I have a day off."

"I know."

"Wait, where are we going?" Jane chimed in, clearly still half-asleep.

Daria sighed. "I just told you at the front door, we have to pick up Quinn's friend."

"_Stacy_," Quinn stressed.

In a slightly exasperated tone, Daria responded, "Quinn, I'm not trying to disrespect your friend, Jane just wouldn't know who she was."

Jane raised a finger. "Actually, I do. Ms. Rowe is going to be designing the costumes for the play."

"What?" Daria asked flatly.

"Apparently she's quite the seamstress. She's actually saving my hide; I was going to be stuck with a bunch of rank amateurs who couldn't even design something from a sketch."

"Yeah, she volunteered in front of the whole auditorium. She's even doing it in her free time because of all her other work," Quinn added, proud of her friend.

Daria shook her head. "You don't think that all seems a little too good to be true? Have either of you ever actually seen anything she's sewn? And _Stacy_ is taking on extra work? No offense Quinn, but that girl can't keep from emotionally breaking down on a day to day basis. Do you really expect her to be able to juggle multiple responsibilities?"

Quinn really wanted to keep the peace, but this was too much. "God, Daria, why do you always have to be so negative? Stacy has grown a lot. And don't call her a liar; I'm sure she's a great spinster."

"So, you haven't actually seen her sew anything."

Jane cut in, "Daria, she did seem like she knew what she was talking about."

"Look, I'm not saying she can't do it—"

"It sure sounds like it," Quinn interrupted, crossing her arms and turning away from her sister.

Daria ignored her sister, and finished, "—I'm just saying you should be careful. She's a girl with a history of being unstable taking on a heavy workload, and you have no idea how good she actually is."

Jane shook her head. "You're just a ray of sunshine, you know that Daria?"

Daria just shrugged. The three rode in silence for a few minutes until Daria finally broke it. "So Quinn, You were going to tell me how your audition went."

Jane, who had been taking a drink of coffee, started choking.

Quinn giggled, breaking out of her frustration a bit. Still laughing, she turned back to her sister and said, "Well, I guess Jane will tell you anyway." Her tone grew less amused as she continued, "Sandi came. She snuck in with Tiffany and they booed me while I was auditioning."

Having recovered, Jane eagerly elaborated, "They brought turkey legs, you know like at that renaissance play O'Neill put on. When Sean started trying to figure out—"

"Sean?" Daria and Quinn asked in unison.

"Mr. O'Neill, the new theater teacher. His name is Sean. Anyway, him questioning the dumber half of the former fashion club—" Quinn smiled at that "—was hilarious. Best of all I got to report Sandi Griffon to the police."

"What?" Daria asked, surprise breaking through her usual veneer of indifference.

Jane was laughing. "Your sister told Sean what was going on and he said to call and report harassment."

Quinn smiled. "In the end it actually really helped my audition. Facing Sandi and watching her make an idiot out of herself totally got rid of any nerves I had." She pointed out the window. "Oh! This is it, that's Stacy's house."

Daria parked the car in the empty driveway and turned to Jane. "So, Sandi Griffin is now on record for possession of turkey drumsticks?"

Quinn leaned in between the front seats. "Jane, can you get out so I can go get Stacy?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." She opened the door and climbed out, leaning the seat forward so Quinn could get out.

Quinn squeezed out of the little Civic's backseat and headed up the walk to Stacy's front door. She knocked, and almost immediately Stacy pulled open the door.

Stacy was always cheery and energetic in the morning, and today was no exception. She bounced a bit and said, "Hi, Quinn."

"Hi, Stacy." Quinn looked back at the car and had an idea. "Can we go up to your room real quick?"

Stacy looked confused. "Sure, but why?"

Quinn walked past her into the house, heading for the stairs. "Daria was saying you might be lying about knowing how to sew. Well maybe not lying, but she said we should make sure you could and that's like the same thing. So, I want to get something to show her you can and that she should trust people." They were up the stairs and had stopped at Stacy's door. "Okay?"

Stacy looked extremely nervous, but nodded.

Quinn shook her head and chastised herself; she was being too pushy with Stacy. "Stacy, it's okay if you don't want to. _I_ know you can do it, and Jane said she thought you knew what you were talking about." Stacy seemed to perk up a bit. "I just wanted to show Daria, but that's my thing. You do what you want."

Stacy took a deep breath and was quiet for a while, then she straightened up and looked Quinn in the eye. "Let's find something. I've got to show Jane, I mean Ms. Lane, anyway. But my sewing stuff's not in here, it's in the guestroom." She looked away and added quietly, "I didn't want anyone to find it when they came over."

Quinn smiled. "Let's go."

Stacy led Quinn to the guestroom closet and, after hesitating for a second, opened it. "So, this is what I have right now. Mom makes me give stuff to Goodwill when I have too much."

Quinn walked up to the closet and looked through the clothes. It was weird to think Stacy made them. They looked pretty professional, but didn't have that off the rack look. There was a personal touch. There were a few tops, a skirt, and a really nice pair of jeans, but three pieces really caught Quinn's eye.

The first was a sundress. It wasn't as complex as some of the other stuff and seemed a bit older, but it just screamed Stacy. It was a halter top swoop-neck with a flowing skirt that would probably reach to just over Stacy's knees. The fabric was a light blue with a yellow floral print.

The second was also fairly simple: a little black dress. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and a short skirt. A layer of transparent lace gave the whole dress a texture, as well as extending the skirt a bit and covering her chest up to her neck.

What really got her attention though, was the last dress. It was abstract, like the high fashion stuff you'd see on the runway. Not that good obviously, but that kind of design. The top was a dull cream colored jacket cut at weird angles that buckled at one side, but the top half was pulled open to expose a bright patterned blouse. The long skirt was a brownish grey with the hem cut at a sharp angle that matched the angle of the jacket's open flap. It wasn't something you'd wear out; it was art.

After she finished looking things over Quinn took a moment to get her thoughts straight, then stepped back to face her friend. "Stacy, this amazing."

Stacy visibly relaxed. She looked hopefully at Quinn and said, "Thanks! I mean, do you really think so?"

"Of course. Stacy, this is crazy. Why have you never worn any of this? Why have you never shown me any of this?"

Stacy looked down. "I showed Sandi some stuff I made when we were in middle school and she said it was stupid, that only name brand stuff was worth wearing. I didn't want her to get mad at me, so I hid it."

Quinn put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Well Sandi's an idiot and we're done with her. If you weren't going to be so busy with the play I'd be asking you to make me something. Now, go change into those jeans and put on one of those tops. They're much cuter than what you have on, no offense."

Stacy looked at her watch, and then up at Quinn. "Um, Quinn don't you think they've been waiting downstairs for a while? Shouldn't we go down?"

"What?" Quinn stared at Stacy confused, until she remembered that Jane and her sister were waiting downstairs. "Crap. How long was I looking at your clothes?"

Stacy checked her watch again. "Almost ten minutes." Quinn quickly grabbed the runway set and one of the more complicated tops and started moving towards the stairs. Stacy hurried after her. "Quinn. Quinn! Don't show them that one, it's no good!"

Quinn hurried down the stairs and headed for the front door, calling back, "It's great Stacy. Don't worry, I've seen Jane's artwork. She'll love it." She opened the front door and almost walked into Jane and Daria.

"I'll love what?" Jane asked, smirking.

As Quinn caught her breath, Daria explained why she and Jane were on the door step, "We got tired of waiting, and came to make sure you two didn't asphyxiate from too much hairspray."

Stacy caught up, and gasped. "That can happen?"

Quinn recovered and shook her head. "No, Stacy, that would take like a whole can. Calm down."

Stacy blushed. "Right, of course. Sorry."

"So, what you got there?" Jane asked, eyeing the clothes Quinn had brought down.

Quinn glared at Daria, "_These _are proof my friend is not a liar." She turned to Stacy and held out the high fashion ensemble. "You hold this while I show the top."

"I… Well… Okay." Stacy reluctantly took the clothes and held them up, hiding her face.

Quinn gestured to the garment she was holding. "This is a beautifully stitched cross-closing V-neck top—" Quinn grinned proudly and pointed to what Stacy was holding "—and that is the closest thing to high fashion that Lawndale has ever seen design. Both made by Stacy."

Daria crossed her arms and began tapping her foot while Jane inspected the clothes. She looked over the top, examining the cut and turning it inside out to checking the stitching. "This is good, not too far from what I want for Oberon. It seems well made too; I've had looser seams on shirts I bought." Turning her attention to the other garment, she stepped back and stroked her chin in thought. She walked around, looking at in from different angles, occasionally leaning in to look at some detail.

Daria cleared her throat. "I don't have anywhere to be but in front of the TV, but you three are going to be late soon."

Jane waved a hand dismissively at her friend and shushed her. She took her time finishing her appraisal, then addressed her friend, "I'm a teacher Daria; I can be late, and I can excuse these two. This is related to the play anyway." She turned to Stacy and tried to see her around the clothes. "Can you give that to Quinn so I can see your face while I talk to you?"

"Sure. I mean, yes ma'am, Ms. Lane." Stacy quickly handed the clothes to Quinn.

"Please, call me Jane. It's enough of a pain to get called that all day, I don't need it when I'm not at work." Stacy nodded. "Good. Now, about your work." She paused, probably trying to be dramatic, and Stacy started shaking. "It's great! Like I said, the shirt's good, but that—" she indicated the runway piece"—that's _art_!" Her voice got more excited. "Let me guess, you've been hiding something? Something buried underneath a lot of barriers?" Stacy's shaking got worse and she started sweating.

Quinn jumped into the conversation, "It's about Sandi right, Stacy?" Stacy went rigid, her face white. Quinn quickly continued, "How she always kept us from expressing ourselves?" She elbowed her frozen friend.

Stacy jumped. "Y-yeah. That's what it's about. Sandi."

Jane shrugged. "Well whatever it's about, I'm impressed. That kind of struggle is hard to pull off."

Daria stepped towards the group. "If we're all done patting Stacy on the back, can we go now?"

Quinn stomped her foot and pouted at her sister. "Daria, stop being mean to Stacy."

It seemed like Daria was going to argue, then she sighed and said, "Stacy, I'm sorry if I offended you. This is just how I act when I've been forced to wait around for twenty minutes. I also never thought you were a liar; I just didn't want Jane being reckless and jumping into something without thinking."

Stacy and Jane stared at Daria like she had just grown a second head. Quinn just smiled. After a second, Stacy managed to say, "Um, yeah. No problem."

"Good. Now, can you two put those back upstairs so I can finish driving you all to school and get home?"

**::**

Quinn waved to Stacy as she saw her enter the lunchroom. "Stacy, over here."

Stacy hurried over to the table where Quinn was sitting. A dark haired girl followed behind her at a more sedate pace. "Hey, Quinn." She gestured to the other girl. "This is Liz, we're doing the sewing together. Liz, this is my friend Quinn, although I guess you already knew that."

Quinn smiled and gave a little wave. "Hi. Nice to meet you, Liz."

Liz nodded. "You too. Do you mind if I sit with you guys? I don't know a ton of people here."

"Sure, the more the merrier." Stacy and Liz sat down, as Quinn introduced the rest of the table. "This is Steven, his younger brother Alex, and Gwen. We're all trying out for the play."

"I can't believe he's making you wait another day to see who got the part," Liz said as she unpacked her lunch.

Gwen nodded as she finished a bite of her sandwich. Swallowing, she agreed, "I know, and you can totally tell he's doing it to watch us squirm."

"At least he's not as bad as his cousin," Stacy offered. The girls all cringed.

"I keep hearing people say that. What's the deal with the other Mr. O'Neill?" Alex asked.

Quinn answered, "That's right you guys are new here. He's an English teacher. Total weirdo, really touchy feely. He's always asking how you feel or something."

"He's comes up with weird assignments too, like having us try to figure out who someone was by feeling their hand. What does that even have to do with English?" Gwen added.

"Well, I guess every school has one weird teacher," Steven said. Quinn and Gwen started laughing. "What's so funny?"

Stacy explained, "We have a _lot _of weird teachers."

"You'll be lucky if you only get three on your schedule," Liz elaborated.

Alex chuckled, "Sounds like fun."

Liz smiled, "Tell me that after you have Ms. Barch." The girls all laughed at that. "Enough about school, what parts are you guys trying out for?"

"I'm trying out for Hermia," Quinn offered.

Alex laughed. "I'm pretty sure everyone remembers your audition, Quinn." His older brother elbowed him in the ribs, and Alex wheezed, "Ow. Sorry, wasn't thinking." He took a second to recover, and added, "I'm trying for Puck, by the way."

"I'm trying out for Bottom, although maybe I should have gone for Oberon. Reeling in Alex seems to be my lot in life," Steven said with a smile.

Gwen finished laughing at Alex and said, "I want to play Titania. What about you two?" She leaned closer. "Tell us what the costumes look like?"

"The designs are beautiful," Stacy said, staring into the distance.

Liz nodded, finishing a drink of her soda. "They're really well done; Ms. Lane is very talented. They're kind of unconventional though, like something out of an old sci-fi show. At least we're not making the ones with the mutants."

Alex perked up. "Mutants?"

* * *

Daria looked at the clock and sighed. Three seventeen. Time seemed pass slower as the end of her day grew closer, even more so than in school. Another thing to look forward to in adult life. It was made worse by the complete lack of customers. If someone were here, she'd at least have some amusing idiots to tell Jane about later.

Cassie called from the game room, which doubled as her office when no one was using it. "Daria, can you bring me a cookie?"

Daria rolled her eyes. At least it was something to do. "What kind?"

"Peanut butter, and get me a water too. Thanks."

Daria put a peanut butter cookie on a napkin and grabbed a bottle of water from the display fridge. She walked around the counter and pushed the door to the game room open with her foot. Cassie was sitting at the closest of the three long tables that filled up the room, working on her laptop. Daria walked over and set the food down next to her. "Anything else?"

Cassie looked up from whatever she was doing. "No. Any customers?"

"Not since about two thirty."

Cassie turned back to her computer and started working again. "Okay."

Daria waited, in case Cassie wanted anything else. When Cassie just kept working, Daria walked back to her post behind the counter. As she settled in for another long wait, the door across the store opened. To her surprise, Quinn entered and walked up to Blake, her co-worker covering that side of the store. They talked for a moment, Daria couldn't make out the conversation over the store's background music, and Blake pointed to the café. Quinn nodded to Blake and sprinted over. When she reached the counter, Daria said, "I never expected to see _you_ willingly walk into a bookstore."

Quinn seemed too happy to even banter back. "Daria, I got the part! I'm playing Hermia."

"Um, congratulations." Daria responded, suddenly glad there weren't any customers around.

Quinn beamed at her. "Thanks! I wanted to hurry and tell you."

"No offense Quinn, but why did you come _here_ to tell me? Couldn't you just tell me at home?"

Quinn looked a bit taken off balance. Her face fell and she seemed to think for a while. Finally, in an introspective tone, she quietly answered, "I don't know, I just felt like I should. I guess… I guess maybe I wanted to show you I could do more than just fashion stuff."

Daria sighed. This was getting too heavy for work, but there was no avoiding it. "Quinn, I always knew you _could_. That's why it was so damned annoying watching you waste your time all these years."

"Oh," Quinn said. She sounded thoughtful and a little hurt.

The two stood in an uncomfortable silence for a while, until Cassie' friendly voice broke it. "Hey Daria, who's this? She can't be a customer, you usually try to deal with them as quickly as possible and you two have been standing there for a couple of minutes."

Daria jumped a bit. Cassie had walked up without her noticing. "This is my sister, Quinn. Quinn, this is my boss, Cassie."

"Daria never told me she had a sister. Cassie Tyler, nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand.

Quinn recovered quickly and gave a bright smile. She shook Cassie's hand, and replied, "Quinn Morgendorffer. I love your store."

Cassie smiled back. "Thanks. Are you a big reader like your sister?"

Daria couldn't help but chuckle. Quinn's face soured for a second, but she quickly recovered. "Not really, but I've been trying a lot of new things lately and I was thinking of picking something up."

Cassie's eyes lit up and Daria smirked at her sister's mistake. Cassie stepped towards Quinn. "What kind of books are you into?" she asked, excited.

Quinn looked a bit uncomfortable. She turned to Daria, but she just shook her head. "Um, I don't really know. Like I said I haven't read too much."

Cassie looked even happier. "Oh, a blank slate? Okay, come with me," she said in an excited voice.

As Cassie turned to head towards the books, Daria called out, "Cassie, wait. Do you mind if we finish talking first? It's kind of important. I promise I won't let her get away."

Cassie stopped, then relaxed and regained her composure. She turned around and gave Daria and Quinn an understanding smile. In the friendly voice from before, she said, "Of course. Just make sure not to make any customers wait, alright?"

Daria looked around the empty store. Her voice thick with sarcasm, she replied, "I'll try."

Cassie smirked and turned around, calling, "Alright, just send her to me when you're done. I'll be looking through the shelves," over her shoulder as she headed for the other side of the store.

Once Cassie was out of earshot, Quinn let out a breath. "You weren't kidding about her."

"Yeah, she's… unique," Daria agreed. "I meant it when I said you weren't getting away; I think she might fire me for keeping her from 'educating' a new reader."

Quinn shivered. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"You seemed upset, and for some reason that bothers me."

Quinn gave a brief smile, before looking down. "Do you really think I wasted all that time?"

"Honestly?" Quinn nodded. "Yes. At least, I think you could have put it to better use. You gained a lot of social skills, but you could have done that without letting your brain atrophy. The important thing is that you're doing better _now_. You're trying to better yourself, and, to my surprise, it looks like you're actually going to keep it up. I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I'm proud of you."

Quinn looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and smiled at Daria, who was suddenly very glad there was a counter between them. "You really mean that?"

"I'm not going to say it twice, if that's what you're hoping for."

"Thanks Daria, I'm proud of you too." Quinn grabbed a napkin and wiped her eyes, then pulled out her compact to check her makeup. As she put it back in her bag, she asked, "I guess I have to go see Cassie now?"

Daria nodded. "Yeah, but don't worry. It may take an hour or so, but she really will find the perfect book for you."

"An _hour_?"

**::**

Daria sat in the booth and watched Jane pay for her slice and soda. When her friend got within earshot, she asked, "What kept you? I thought you got off work an hour ago."

Jane slid into the booth across from her Daria. "Well, I stopped getting _paid_ an hour ago. I didn't actually leave until about ten minutes ago."

Daria raised an eyebrow. "What could possibly make you stay at Lawndale High longer that you had to?"

"I had to talk with Stacy about the costume designs; that girl has a surprisingly good eye," Jane explained.

Daria finished a sip of her soda. "You couldn't do that during class?"

"Nah, Upchuck has her all day. My stuffs all extracurricular. I shouldn't have to stay late for much longer, though; we should be able to finish the last of the designs tomorrow." Jane took a bite of her pizza.

"I still can't believe they let him teach."

Jane savored her slice for a while, then swallowed. "It's simple really, Ms. Li doesn't have to pay him as much as a real teacher."

"Of course." Daria and Jane took a few minutes to put a dent in their food, then Daria continued the conversation, "We never decided, are we watching the Sick Sad World marathon at my place or yours?"

"Crap, I forgot about that." Jane scratched the back of her head and looked away. "Actually, I can't make it."

"What?" Daria asked, an edge to her voice. This was starting to feel familiar.

"I kinda have to go fabric shopping with Stacy," Jane explained apologetically.

"Why can't you just go on Sunday?" Daria was starting to get mad; Jane had a bad habit of ditching her when she got caught up in something.

Jane's voice was full of frustration and a bit annoyed, "There's a sale Daria, and our teachers weren't kidding about budget cuts all these years. I'll be lucky if this play doesn't end up looking like some damn kindergarten recital." She put her head in her hands. "Why the hell did I do this again?"

"A misguided sense of responsibility to a former teacher and the need for a new big project," Daria rattled off sarcastically, mostly by reflex.

Jane lifted her head and chuckled. In a tired voice she responded, "Right. Well, I'm stuck with it now. Look, can you just record the marathon? We can watch it Sunday."

This was really getting to Jane. Daria's concern for her friend pushed back her unexplained anger from a moment ago, and she replied, "Sure, sounds good. We'll have to do it early though, we both have work in the morning. God, that sounds weird."

Jane smirked, perking up a bit. "At least it's _only_ work. By this time next year, we'll probably have work _and_ school."

Daria groaned and dropped her head on the table at that thought. Shortly, she heard someone walk up to their table and looked up, fearing the worst. Thankfully it was only Mack and Jodie.

"Hey, guys," Jodie began. "I was hoping you would rethink coming to my parents Fourth of July party."

Daria shook her head, "Sorry, I have work on Wednesday."

"You got a job?" Mack asked, surprised. He quickly recovered, adding "Sorry, I just never saw you as the type to work over the summer."

"Trust me, neither did I, but I had a very powerful incentive and plenty of peer pressure." Daria tilted her head towards Jane.

Jane shrugged. "What can I say, I like money."

"You're working too?" Mack asked.

Jane nodded, "Afraid so, at least the pays good."

Jodie smiled, "That's great. Where are you guys working?"

"I'm teaching at the school's summer theatre program—" Jane gestured to Daria "—and Daria's working at a bookstore on Dega street."

"Cool, well come by if you have time after work. I'd love to have someone other than Kevin and Britany to talk to."

"Later," Mack said with a wave, as he and Jody left.

Jane took a bite of pizza, a thoughtful look on her face. Upon finishing, she said, "We should go."

"I guess I can get my last slice to go. What's the hurry?"

Jane shook her head. "No, I mean we should go to the party."

Daria looked at her friend mock-seriously. "Jane, did you eat something out of your fridge again?"

"Come on Daria, don't you want to mess with Kevin and Brittany one last time?"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of idiots in Boston." Daria sipped on her straw, draining the last of her soda.

"Yeah, but these are _our_ idiots." There was an odd hint of emotion mixed in the sarcasm of Jane's voice.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

Jane shrugged and looked down at her half eaten pizza. "I don't know, it just sounds fun I guess. If you don't wanna go, I can go alone."

This seemed important to Jane for some reason and they weren't seeing enough of each other this summer as it was. Daria sighed, "I'll think about it."

* * *

Stacy fished her key out of her bag and unlocked the front door. She walked in, wiping her shoes on the mat by habit, and held the door for her friend.

Quinn trudged in after her. "I'm _so_ glad it's Friday. Theatre is fun and all, but it's exhausting. I mean five days a week? It's like going to school!"

"I know what you mean. I'm having so much fun, but I'm so busy, especially with all the costume stuff," Stacy said, relocking the door and starting up the stairs to her room.

Quinn followed behind her. "Have I told you how cool it is that you're making the costumes _and_ being the stage manager?"

Stacy hesitated at the door to her room and looked down. She didn't like thinking about all the work she had to do. "I don't know Quinn, sometimes I get worried. I mean, I'm taking on so much. What if—"

"Stop it, Stacy," Quinn sternly interrupted. Putting a hand on Stacy's shoulder, she said, "You've got to stop doubting yourself. I know Sandi made you think you couldn't do anything, but she was _wrong_. You can do this. You're doing great."

More pressure. Stacy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt a little better. There was still a lot to do, and she still wasn't completely sure she could do it all, but Quinn said she could. Plus, she'd promised everyone she'd do it. They were counting on her. She _had_ to do it. She forced a smile, turned to her friend, and said, "Thanks Quinn. I'm glad I have you here to remind me."

Quinn gave a bright smile back. "No problem, what are friends for." She squeezed past Stacy, into the room, pulling out the chair from Stacy's vanity and sitting down across from the bed. "Ugh, I'm so glad to be off my feet; Mr. O'Neill has us standing up all day." She looked back at Stacy. "So, what do you want to do?"

Stacy walked into the room and sat down on her bed, across from Quinn. "I don't know. I don't really want to go out."

Quinn slouched back in the chair. "Yeah, I don't even feel like shopping." The two sat in silence for a while, until Quinn sat up straight and exclaimed, "I know! Let's have a fashion show."

"What?"

"You can put on all those cute clothes you made. I've been dying to see how they look on someone and not just on the rack. Why haven't you been wearing them anyway?"

Stacy looked down to hide the embarrassed blush spreading across her face. "Um, no reason." She'd been making them without wearing them for years; she'd never _planned_ on wearing them. "I-I guess I just didn't think of it. I've been so busy." She gave a stilted laugh.

"Okay." Quinn stared at Stacy expectantly, while the other girl stared at the ground. "Well, go change!" she said with a friendly laugh, shooing Stacy with her hand.

Stacy almost flinched. "Right, sorry." She hurried out of her room and across the hall to the guestroom, closing the door behind her. More deep breaths. She looked over the clothes in front of her. A top and jeans, that would be easy. She wore stuff like that every day. Looking over the tops, she picked out a pale yellow peasant blouse that she thought would go well with the jeans, and laid it and the jeans out on the bed. She took off her sandals, then pulled off her shirt and capris and neatly folded them and put them next to the other clothes on the bed. Stacy stared at the clothes she had sewn and sighed. There was no way out now. She pulled on the jeans, then the top. She turned to the mirror; the fit was good and she thought she looked good. She steeled herself, then opened the door and walked across the hall and back into her room.

Quinn was waiting facing the door. When Stacy walked in she started clapping. "Stacy that looks _great!_ And it fits so well." Once Stacy had walked fully into the room, Quinn stood up and circled her. Crouching down Quinn looked at the jeans in detail. "I love these little flourishes. Just enough to be cute without being distracting."

Though she'd done it in stores plenty of times, it was always awkward having the clothes you were wearing inspected, even more so when you'd made them. "Um, thanks. That's what I was going for," Stacy managed.

"Well it worked," Quinn said, standing up, "These jeans are super cute. I bet Liz will love them."

"I don't think Liz is that into fashion Quinn."

"Duh, I meant she'd like you in them." Quinn nudged Stacy, grinning.

Stacy tilted her head and looked at Quinn in confusion. "What?"

Quinn looked at Stacy like she was a little slow. "You _know_, she'd think you look good. I mean, you want her to right?"

"Quinn, what are you talking about?"

"Well, you like her, right?" Quinn said as if it was obvious.

Several feelings ran through Stacy in the space of a few seconds. Embarrassment at the idea, anger at the assumption, curiosity about where it came from, but, more than anything else, amusement at her friends misunderstanding. Stacy started laughing, genuine hearty laughter. She started tearing up and sat down on her bed until she recovered. Smiling, she wiped her eyes. "Thanks Quinn, I needed that."

Quinn pouted, "I'm glad me trying to help you is so amusing."

Guilt started to push back Stacy's amusement. "Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry. It's just, why would you think I liked Liz?"

Quinn stared at her shoes. "I don't know. I mean, you've been hanging out a lot and you always bring her to lunch."

Stacy smiled. "Quinn, Liz isn't who I'm into; she's the only other person doing the sewing for the play. We're friends. I'm not going to want to be in a relationship with every girl I get close to."

"Sorry—" Quinn looked up smiling "—I don't exactly have much experience with this whole gay best friend thing. Wait, what do you mean 'isn't who I'm into'?"

"What?"

Quinn grinned and pointed a finger at Stacy. "You said 'Liz isn't who I'm into', not 'I'm not into Liz'. That means you have someone you _do_ like."

Stacy froze. Had she said that? Why would she say that? Eventually, she managed a confused, "I do?"

Quinn waved her hand as if to dismiss any other possibility. "Totally, otherwise you would have just said you weren't into Liz." Quinn sat down across from the bed again and leaned forward conspiratorially. "So who is it?"

Stacy shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't even know I said that."

Quinn furrowed her brow. "Hmm. It must be one of those things where you say what you think instead of what you think you think. Is there anyone you've been acting weird around? Someone you're nervous around."

Stacy laughed bitterly in her head. Who _wasn't _she nervous around? She thought about the girls she had met in the past week. There was Quinn's friend Gwen, but she hardly knew her. There was Diane who was doing the lights, but there was no way she liked her; she was three years younger and acted like a kid. There was Liz, but she knew she didn't like Liz; she was a friend. She always covered for her when things got weird with Jane. Wait, Jane. Jane with the surprisingly strong arms and the amazing drawings. Stacy's body sagged and her head fell. "Damn it."

Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "_Stacy_!" Hesitantly she asked, "So, I guess you figured out who you like?" Stacy nodded, her hair falling around her face. "Um, who is it?

Stacy raised her head and ran her hands through her hair, pushing it back. "It doesn't matter." She fell back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Why do I always like girls I have no chance with?" Not that there were a lot that she _did_ have a chance with. She really didn't want to think about this. Why did she have to figure it out?

Quinn put a hand on Stacy's knee, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Stacy, tell me who it is. It can't be that bad, and if it is let me help."

Stacy sighed. Quinn would keep asking until she told her. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. "It's Jane. Jane who is a year older than me, is leaving in a couple of months, hates the fashion club, and is straight."

"Oh." Quinn's face fell. Stacy thought she finally understood, when Quinn perked up. "Okay, the year older thing doesn't matter. If older guys are good, so are older girls. Daria says she's not leaving until January, so that's like half a year. You're not in the fashion club anymore and she likes the clothes you make, she called that one dress art. And just because she dated some guys doesn't mean she's straight; you dated tons of guys."

Stacy sat up and managed a small smile. Quinn was a good friend. "I appreciate what you're doing Quinn, but I'm pretty sure nothing's going to happen. I couldn't get the courage up to ask her out even if I was pretty sure she'd say yes." Quinn opened her mouth to say something, but Stacy cut her off, "Can we just talk about something else?"

"Um, okay. If that's what you want." She seemed to think for a moment, then lit up. "I know, let's look at some more of your clothes. I'd love to see that little black dress."

The anxiety from before immediately flooded back into Stacy. Quinn was a good friend, but she could be really oblivious.

* * *

Jane parked Trent's car and climbed out, taking a moment to look around. It wasn't the best neighborhood in Lawndale. Not bad by any means, but not as nice as Daria's. It certainly wasn't where she expected a fashion princess to live. Stacy's home was average for the neighborhood, a modest two story house painted a soft blue; it was set apart by a beautifully manicured lawn with flowering bushes lining the front of the house and a pair of small, well groomed trees in the yard. It didn't suit a fashion princess, but it seemed to suit the girl she'd been getting to know the past week. Jane reminded herself again to try not to freak Stacy out and headed up the walk. She knocked on the door and, after a short wait, a woman who looked to be in her early forties answered.

She was a couple of inches shorter than Stacy and had a rounder face, but otherwise looked just like her. The woman smiled and said, "Hi. You must be Jane. I'm Carol Rowe, Stacy's mom. Come on in." She stepped inside waving Jane in and indicating a couch in the living room off to the right. Jane walked in and sat down, while the woman closed the door and called upstairs, "Stacy, Jane's here!"

"Okay, Mom, I'll be down in a minute!" came Stacy's voice from upstairs.

The woman chuckled and turned to Jane. "If that minute lasts half as long as the ones when she's getting ready for dates she might take a while. Would you like anything to drink?"

Jane was a bit surprised. For some reason, she had expected Stacy's mother to be as high strung as she was, but this woman was pretty much the exact opposite. Jane smirked and waved a hand, "No thanks, I'm driving."

Mrs. Rowe froze for a second, then smiled. She walked over to a recliner next to the couch and sat down. "Stacy said you had a different sense of humor."

Jane quirked an eyebrow, curious. "Really? What else has she been saying about me?"

"Hmm…" Mrs. Rowe leaned back, crossing her legs and tapping her cheek. "Well, she says you're intense and a bit scary, but don't worry about that she's afraid of most things." She slowly shook her head as a frown briefly passed over her face. Her bright smile returned as she continued, "She _also_ says you're really nice and encouraging. More than anything else though, she talks about your art. She goes on and on about how amazing it is."

Jane smiled a bit at that last part. Stacy had been looking through her sketchbooks while they worked on the designs. Jane had thought it would be good for a laugh when the younger girl freaked out, but she actually seemed to get a lot of it. Coming back to the conversation, Jane asked, "You two talk a lot, huh?"

Mrs. Rowe shrugged. "I guess. I like to think we have a pretty good relationship." Jane thought of her own mother and smiled bitterly. Mrs. Rowe seemed to notice Jane's preoccupation and changed the subject. "Thank you for staying after to work with her. I'm sure that budget hoarding Li isn't paying you for it."

Jane chastised herself getting distracted like that, then collected herself and shrugged. "I'm used to spending my own money on art projects, so getting paid at all is a plus. Working late's hardly anything new either. If anything, I should be thanking Stacy. If it weren't for her I think all our actor's would be wearing burlap sacks."

"I'm just glad she's actually showing someone her sewing." Mrs. Rowe beamed with pride. "I know I'm her mother, but she's so _good_. It's always driven me crazy that she wouldn't show anyone." Mrs. Rowe noticed something behind Jane and her face lit up, tears brimming in her eyes. She squealed, "You're wearing them!"

Jane turned around to see what was going on. Stacy was halfway down the stairs, staring down at Jane and her mother like a deer in headlights. She was wearing the white V-neck top she'd shown Jane Tuesday morning and a pair of jeans that also looked custom made. Jane had to admit, Stacy looked good. Tailored clothes really made a difference. If she sewed the costumes like that, the play was going to look great. Then Jane noticed that Stacy hadn't moved any further down the stairs and sighed. Or at least it _would_ look great, if she could get her seamstress to leave the house and help her buy the fabric. "Stacy, I don't know exactly where this fabric store is, but I'm pretty sure it's outside. You know, _downstairs_."

Stacy jumped, almost falling down the stairs. After catching herself on the banister, she said, "Sorry," and started carefully down the stairs.

Jane got up and went to meet her at the door. As she turned around to stand she noticed Mrs. Rowe was gone. She looked around and didn't see her, then shrugged and went to meet Stacy. Jane and Stacy both reached the front door at about the same time, and as Stacy was about to open it, Mrs. Rowe appeared from around a corner with a camera in her hands.

Mrs. Rowe smiled, full of pride. "Stacy, honey, I'm so proud of you. Do you mind if I get a few pictures?"

Stacy let go of the door's handle and looked up at Jane. Jane could tell she was trying really hard not to freak out. "I'm sorry, Jane. Do you mind? My mom's kind of obsessed with scrapbooking."

Jane backed away from Stacy, throwing up her hands. "Hey, far be it from me to get in the way of family memories."

"Thank you, Jane," Mrs. Rowe said, and began circling her daughter, snapping pictures. Stacy was blushing, her eyes darting to Jane every few seconds. Jane was wondering if Stacy was always this nervous or if her mother was just oblivious, when Mrs. Rowe called out, "Jane, get next to Stacy."

It took Jane a moment to process that. "What?"

Mrs. Rowe waved Jane towards he daughter. "Go stand next to Stacy. I want to get a picture of her with the person who finally got her to take her sewing out of the house."

Jane glanced at Stacy, who was blushing furiously. "I don't know, Mrs. Rowe. I didn't really do anything; Stacy volunteered on her own."

"Nonsense, now stand together." Mrs. Rowe stepped up and pushed the two together with surprising strength. She stepped back and took a few pictures. "Hm… Jane drape your arm over her shoulder." Jane hesitated, then shrugged and put her arm around Stacy, figuring it was best to just get this over with. Stacy stiffened, then, strangely, relaxed into her. Before Jane could wonder about this, Mrs. Rowe started taking more pictures. After a half dozen or so, she gave a warm smile and put down the camera. "Perfect. Thank you girls, I'm so glad I'll have these to remember today. You can go now. Have fun."

Stacy stayed next to Jane for a moment, then seemed to snap out of something. She said, "Okay, Mom, bye," as quickly as possible, while ducking out of Jane's arm, picking up the designs, and unlocking the door in one fluid motion, blushing like mad the whole time.

"It was nice meeting you, Jane," Mrs. Rowe said as her daughter slipped out the door.

Jane nodded. "You too." She looked over her shoulder at the open door. "Well, I better go before she runs all the way to the store without me."

Mrs. Rowe chuckled. "Alright. Drive safe."

**::**

Unsurprisingly, the strip mall's parking lot was packed on a Saturday afternoon. Jane circled for a while then pulled into a spot a few storefronts down from the fabric store that opened up. After she and Stacy had gotten out of the car and started down the sidewalk, she asked, "So, I've been wondering, how did you go out and buy fabric all these years without Sandi catching on?"

"I wore a disguise," Stacy said, a bit embarrassed.

Jane laughed. "You wore a disguise? What, you threw on a trench coat and some Groucho glasses?"

"Um, no." Stacy blushed. "Well, kind of. I wore my hair up in a headscarf. You know, like you do in a convertible? And then some big sunglasses and a coat."

Jane tried to imagine Stacy in that get up and chuckled. "You must have looked like one of those old movie stars."

Stacy giggled. "That's what Mom said. I love those old movies."

Jane was surprised. Forgetting she was trying not to upset Stacy, she joked, "You do know I'm talking about movies that came out before nineteen ninety, right?"

Stacy stopped abruptly. "You know, Jane, I'm not an idiot."

Jane turned around. Stacy looked surprisingly serious. Jane was impressed, she'd never seen Stacy stand her ground like this. It made her feel a little guilty and she tried to explain, "I know you're not. I wouldn't have believed it a week ago, but you have some real artistic talent and you're actually not so bad to hang out with when you manage to relax." Jane got a bit frustrated as she continued, thinking of the past. "But _you_ have to understand that I've spent the last decade or so of my life seeing you waddle along obediently behind that airheaded bitch Sandi. I make fun of idiots, heck I make fun of my friends. I'm trying to go easy on you, but you've got to understand that I've been thinking of you as some stupid fashion drone for years and it's a hard habit to break."

Stacy swallowed. She looked Jane in the eye and said, "Don't."

Jane was transfixed by the determination in the younger girl's eyes. "Huh?"

Stacy maintained eye contact, her eyes tearing up. "Don't go easy on me. I might misunderstand sometimes and I might even freak out, but please don't treat me like some broken doll," she almost begged, desperation in her voice.

This whole conversation was getting way too heavy. Jane decided to try to just act normal and get past it as quickly as possible. She shrugged and said, "Hey, if that's what you want, then you got it. One hundred percent Jane Lane, no holds barred."

"Thanks." Stacy wiped her eyes again and her intensity from a moment ago disappeared. "Well, let's get to the store." She started walking again, then abruptly stopped and looked at the store they'd been talking in front of. She blushed a bit and laughed nervously. "Oh, I guess we were already here." She pushed open the door and headed in.

Jane looked at the door as she followed Stacy in and couldn't help but smirk; "Sew Easy" was printed in flowing letters. Once she was inside she had to hurry to catch up with Stacy. Even after a week of working with her, it still surprised Jane how confident Stacy was when she was in her element. You'd never guess the girl was so timid the rest of the time. Luckily, she stopped to ask a salesgirl something and Jane was able to catch up.

Stacy finished talking to the salesgirl as Jane reached her and turned to Jane with an almost predatory smile. "Come on, the fabrics on sale are over here." She swiveled around and hurried towards the far side of the store at a brisk pace.

While Stacy started to search through the discounted fabrics, Jane took the chance to look around the store. She was immediately glad she had convinced Stacy to come with her. The store was much bigger than she had thought it would be and there was fabric _everywhere_, not to mention shelves of thread, buttons, zippers, tape, and more kinds of scissors than she'd ever seen, which was saying something. She imagined this must be what it felt like for Daria or Trent when she dragged them to a big art supply store.

"Jane, look at these," Stacy asked, bringing Jane back to the task at hand. She was holding two bolts of grey fabric, in different shades. "I know it's not exactly what you wanted for the mechanicals, but they're forty percent off."

Jane hated working on a budget, although she was certainly used to it. She compared the two rolls of cloth. One was a kind charcoal color and the other was a lighter ash. She wanted the Athenians to wear a kind of metallic silver, so the more common mechanicals needed to contrast. It was a little off, but it would work. "Let's go with the darker one," Jane said, looking up, but not seeing Stacy.

"Okay," Stacy said, already halfway down the wall. She pointed to three patterned bolts she had bundled in her arm. "How about these for Pucks vest?" She pulled out another with her free arm. "Or maybe this one?"

Jane jogged down the wall to where Stacy was standing and took the fabric. Before she even had a chance to look at it, Stacy spotted another candidate and darted off. Jane sighed. This was going to be a long day.

**::**

Jane felt exhausted as she finally dropped the bags of fabric, zippers, and string into the trunk and closed it. She looked over at Stacy, who seemed even more tired than she was. "What happened to you? You were bouncing off the walls for the past two hours and now you look like my brother."

Stacy tilted her head and covered a yawn with her hand. "Your brother?"

Jane smirked. "Professional narcoleptic." When Stacy's confused look didn't leave, Jane clarified, "He sleeps a lot."

An embarrassed blush spread across Stacy's face. "Oh. Um, I don't know. I guess I just get into a zone when I'm shopping for fabric."

Jane nodded. "I think I get it. I can spend hours in a good art supply store." Just then, her stomach loudly reminded her that it was one thirty and she hadn't eaten all day. She looked around the shopping center and spotted a Subway across the parking lot. "I'm starving. You wanna get some lunch?"

"Um, sure. That sounds fun," Stacy replied, sounding a bit nervous.

"Cool." Jane led the way across the asphalt, slowing her pace when she realized Stacy was lagging behind. Once Stacy caught up, she asked, "Wow, you really are wiped out. What, was there a fashion marathon on last night?"

Stacy shook her head while covering another yawn with her hand. "I was finishing the patterns."

Jane gave Stacy a confused look. "I thought we did that on Thursday."

"We finished the _sketches_ on Thursday. I still had to draw the patterns onto paper, those big rolls they had in the store, so we would know how much material we would need."

Jane opened the door for Stacy as they reached the Subway. She contemplated Stacy as she walked past and into the sandwich shop. She was surprised at how easy it was to imagine Stacy working all night. Staying up all night for anything, much less an art project, wasn't something she would have expected from a member of the fashion club, but Stacy kept shaking her preconceptions. Jane found herself noticing the younger girl's clothes again. She remembered Stacy saying she'd been sewing for five years. Why couldn't she have gotten away from Sandi sooner?

"Um, Jane?" Stacy was standing at the counter getting ready to order.

Jane blinked, realizing she'd been holding the door open for some time now, and got in line behind Stacy. Stacy bought a salad and some bottled water, and went to sit down. Jane opted for a footlong meatball sub, she found something intrinsically wrong with any sandwich that had more vegetables than the meat it was named for. When she finished paying for her combo, she found Stacy sitting at a booth next to the window and slid in across from her.

Stacy stared as Jane unwrapped her sandwich and took a big bite. "How can you eat like that and stay so thin?"

Jane swallowed and wiped her mouth. With a smirk, she replied, "I doubt you'd be interested; it involves sweat."

Stacy looked at Jane's footlong sub, then at her own small salad, turning it over with her plastic fork. She looked back up at Jane with conviction and said, "Jane, I've made a lot of changes recently. If sweating will let me eat real food every once in a while, I'm willing to give it a try."

Jane laughed at Stacy's seriousness and shook her head. "You just keep surprising me, Rowe. Alright, I'll let you in on my great weight loss secret," Jane leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I run."

"That's it?" Stacy looked skeptical.

Jane leaned back and nodded. "Afraid so, just regular exercise. Just to clarify, I don't do it to lose weight; it feels great and helps me clear my mind."

Stacy looked thoughtful, then hesitantly asked, "Um, do you think I could go with you some time?"

Without thinking, Jane said, "Eh, why not." She immediately wondered why she had said it. That was her time alone, away from everything. She quickly qualified her statement, "But not all the time, and you can't talk my ear off. I got enough of that from Daria's mom to last a lifetime."

Stacy grinned giddily and almost squealed. "Thank you. I promise I won't bother you." As she calmed down, she seemed to remember something. "Oh, that reminds me. I meant to apologize earlier. Sorry about my mom."

Jane finished off the first half of her sandwich and washed it down with some soda. "Stacy, what are you talking about?"

"Well, she was so pushy. With all the pictures and—" Stacy blushed "—pushing us together."

Jane sighed. She hated it when people complained about their parents. With a bit of an edge to her voice, she said, "Stacy, your mom cares about you and wants to remember every moment of your life." Without realizing it, her voice grew angrier, "Have you _met_ other people's parents? You're _lucky_."

Stacy reacted before Jane was finished speaking. She slumped her shoulders, hugged herself, and dropped her head. It seemed like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. "I-I'm sorry. You're right," she stammered, barely audible.

Jane instantly felt terrible. "Damn it. Look, Stacy, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you; it's my own family stuff, okay?"

Stacy stayed balled up. Deep breaths and the occasionally sniffle were the only observable changes. Jane had no idea what to do and just sat there worrying, afraid of doing anything that might make things worse. Finally, Stacy looked up at Jane, her makeup ruined, and asked, "W-what's wrong with your family?"

Jane hated talking about her family. Sure, she joked about them, but that was with Daria, and only because Daria pretty much had to know about her situation with all the time they spent together. She couldn't risk Stacy falling apart again, though. She sighed. "Stacy, I haven't seen my mother in the last seven months. I think it's been about eleven for my father." Stacy gasped. Jane held up a hand and shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I've got my brother Trent, and there are plenty of advantages to having no parents around."

"I'm so sorry. I had no Idea." Stacy started kneading her hands and squirming. "Oh, no. I was so insensitive, talking about my mom."

Trying to head off another break down, Jane grabbed Stacy's hands and in her firmest voice said, "Stacy." Stacy looked Jane in the eye, blushing. "Everything's fine. I'm not mad at you. Okay?"

Stacy nodded. In a tiny voice she said, "Okay."

"Good." Jane let go of Stacy's hands, the younger girl holding on for a second before letting go as well. Jane grabbed her soda and took a drink, the cool wet plastic feeling good on her warm palms. As she put it down, she said, "You know, you're not making this whole 'not taking it easy on you' thing very easy."

Stacy looked away. "Sorry."

An awkward silence stretched out as Jane and Stacy ate their food. It finally got to Jane, and she tried to spark up a conversation with something that would interest a former fashion club member. "So, are you going to Jodie's party?"

Stacy cautiously looked up from what little was left of her salad. "Um, yeah. Quinn and I were planning on going. Are you?"

"Believe it or not, I am. It's the last chance I'll get to see a lot of people. They may be idiots, but I've known them my whole life, you know?"

Stacy nodded. "Uh huh. It's weird to think of everyone who's been a year older than me my whole life being gone."

"I'm glad _someone_ gets it. Daria almost had me thinking I was going crazy."

Stacy hesitated, then offered, "Well, she only moved here a couple of years ago. She hasn't been going to school with everyone for her whole life."

Jane sagged into the booth. "That's a good theory, but I doubt Daria would want to go even if she had lived here her entire life. She doesn't exactly like interacting with people."

"Oh." Stacy didn't seem to know what to say to that and instead perked up and said, "Well, I hope I see you at the party."

Jane smirked. "Yeah, I think both Morgendorffer sisters would be pretty surprised to run into each other."

Stacy giggled. "Quinn would be, although nowadays she'd probably be happy instead of freaking out like she used to."

"We live in strange times." Jane looked down at the remains of their lunch, a few crinkled wrappers covered in crumbs and an empty plastic salad container. "You ready to go?"

Stacy covered her mouth in a futile attempt to conceal a long yawn.

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

**Hello,**

**I'm editing this in after the fact, as I completely forgot to put in an author's note when I first posted it. Thinking about it, that probably means I shouldn't, but I've got a thing for symmetry so here it is.**

**I mentioned character growth last chapter, which is great. Super fun to write. Except for the fact that it gets much harder to keep someone in character the further they grow from said character. Hopefully they're not completely off.**

**Thanks for all your kind words in the reviews; I hope you continue to enjoy.**

**Edit: 8/13/15 More light editing, a little pruning, and I changed Stacy's mom's name after realizing I'd subconsciously pulled it from another fic.**


	5. Chapter 5

"This was a mistake." Daria was exhausted. The sun still hadn't quite set yet, and the mid-summer heat was at its peak. It had been a few hours since she got off work, but spending half the day trying to get toddler vomit out of carpet had left her even more exhausted than usual. The party looked about the same as it had last year, a mix of people around her age Jodie had invited and middle aged couples her dad was trying to impress. Daria still didn't understand why Jane was so set on coming, but she was already regretting agreeing to go with her.

Jane looked across the streamer covered backyard, almost as if she were searching for something specific. "Come on, Daria, it's not that bad. Look, we'll make a circuit, grab some free food, and then we can leave. Okay?"

"You owe me, Lane."

Jane shrugged, still looking around, "Eh, put it on my tab. Now, let's get some food." She gestured to the barbeque, where someone was grilling hotdogs and hamburgers.

A familiar squeaky voice stopped them. "Daria! Jane! You came!"

Daria reluctantly turned to face the former head cheerleader of Lawndale High. She was immediately surprised to see that Brittany was not wearing her cheerleading uniform, but instead had on a red top and jeans. Standing next to her was Kevin, who had no such change in attire, wearing the same football pads he always did.

Jane waved a greeting. "Hey, Brittany. What's with the new duds? Finally get tired of Upchuck trying to look up your skirt?"

"_I_ am no longer a student of Lawndale High School and therefore _I_ can no longer wear a Lawndale High uniform. Unlike _some_ people." She glared at Kevin.

He just grinned goofily. "Don't worry about it, babe. You still look hot, even without your uniform."

"Hmph!" Brittany folded her arms and turned away from Kevin.

"C'mon babe, what'd I say?" When Brittany remained silent, he turned to Daria. "Hey, Daria, where's Tom?"

Daria felt a small pang in her chest. She still wasn't completely over the whole Tom thing. Hadn't Jodie spread the news around already? "I'm afraid Tom couldn't make it. He was sent on a secret mission to infiltrate the underground lair of the mole people."

"Whoah, cool!" Kevin exclaimed. "What's he doing there?"

Jane cut in, "He's going to replace the Mole King and destabilize their country."

Brittany twirled a lock of her hair and tilted her head. "But if they're underground, wouldn't destabilizing them cause, like, earthquakes and stuff?"

"Hey, that's not cool man! Earthquakes could mess up the football field!" Kevin yelled, looking down and addressing the ground.

Jane smirked. "I don't think he heard you Kevin, maybe you should dig a hole so you can get closer."

Kevin nodded. "Good idea. I'm gonna go find a shovel." He dashed off towards the Landon's garage.

After he was gone, Brittany asked, "Um, Daria? Didn't you break up with Tom?"

Daria was glad that at least one of them remembered, that meant that the information was out there and she wouldn't have to explain it all night. "Yes, Brittany. I did. Congratulations on your ability to retain simple information."

"Thanks! Um, can I talk to you—" Brittany eyed Jane "—_alone?_"

Jane grinned at Daria. "Hey, you know what? I'm starving. I'm gonna go get some food. Don't worry Daria, I'll grab you something too."

Daria stared daggers at her friend, already thinking of ways to get back at her. "Gee. Thanks, Jane."

"No problem," Jane replied, and disappeared into the crowd towards the barbeque.

Once Jane was out of earshot, Brittany said, "Wow! It sure is lucky she was hungry. We didn't even have to ask her to leave."

"Yeah, lucky us." Daria wondered what it was about her that made people come to her with their problems.

Brittany moved closer, as if to make sure they weren't heard. "I need your help with something."

"Really," Daria said flatly.

"Yeah. Okay, so Kevin and I were supposed to be together until graduation, and I graduated, but he didn't, and I can't _be_ with him anymore because I won't be here and he will and he's a _loser_ now," Brittany rambled, then looked at Daria expectantly.

"It sounds like you have a pretty good grasp of the situation. What do you need me for?"

"I need you to tell me how to break up with Kevin," Brittany explained, as if it were obvious.

Daria looked at Brittany in disbelief. "Brittany, I'm pretty sure you and Kevin have broken up more times than I have. Actually, I'm pretty sure you've broken up more than most of the school. Combined."

Brittany looked desperate. "That's the _problem_, we always get back together. You broke up with Tom and you've stayed broken up for, like, _weeks_. How'd you do it?"

Daria sighed. "Brittany, I'm not exactly qualified to give relationship advice. I just told him why things weren't working out and wished him well."

Brittany tilted her head to the right in thought for a while, idly twirling a strand of her hair. Daria could almost hear the gears slowly grinding. Finally Brittany lit up and said, "So I should, like, tell him what I said earlier about graduating and moving and him being a loser and stuff?"

"Maybe leave off the part about him being a loser."

Brittany's usual vacant smile returned. "Thanks Daria! You're really good at this!"

Before Daria could respond, Jane appeared from out of the crowd carrying a paper plate with a burger in one hand, a half-eaten hotdog in the other, and a couple of cans of Ultra Cola tucked under her arm. "I hope you two are done with your little heart to heart, because I'm not gonna go stand in the crowd and wait."

"Wow, you have really good timing Jane," Brittany squeaked, "We just finished." She turned to Daria and said, "Thanks again. I'm gonna go find Kevin."

As the blonde was about to retreat, Jane called, "Brittany, don't forget: say _no_ if he asks to get back together next week."

"Good idea. Thanks. Bye, Jane. Bye, Daria." With that, Brittany walked off in the direction Kevin had gone.

Daria took the burger and one of the sodas from her friend. She opened the soda and took a drink, then asked, "So, how long were you listening?"

Jane pulled her own can out from under her arm. "Not long, just enough to figure out she's dumping Kevin." Jane smirked at her friend as she opened her soda. "I never knew you were such a relationship guru."

Daria was relieved that Jane hadn't heard the Tom stuff; it still managed to get them both on edge sometimes and she was irritated enough tonight as it was. "I was simply providing a public service. If I can keep those two from eventually reproducing, I'll know I've done my part."

"I never knew you were such a Good Samaritan."

**::**

Daria had been following Jane around the party for half an hour. Jane still seemed to be looking for something, but Daria had long since stopped caring what. She was ready to go home, take a shower, and get some sleep. "Jane, why are you even talking to these people? We hardly know them, and we're never going to see them again."

Jane stopped scanning the crowd and turned to her friend. "That's the point Daria; we're never going to see them again."

"What?"

Jane sighed. "Daria, you've lived in Lawndale for a few years—"

"Long enough to know I want to get out as soon as possible," Daria interrupted.

"Yeah, Lawndale sucks, and I'm looking forward to getting out, but I've lived my whole life here. These people, stupid as they are, have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. _I_ do know them."

Daria couldn't understand what Jane was getting at. They were going to Boston together; that was what mattered. Why was Jane so attached to these idiots? "All the more reason to avoid these kind of things. I didn't start going to a bunch of parties when I left Highland."

Jane exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. In an irritated voice she began, "Maybe that's because you—" Something behind Daria caught Jane's eye, and her voice lost its edge, "_There _they are."

Daria was caught off guard by the sudden shift and looked over her shoulder to see what Jane was talking about. Across the yard she spotted Mack and Jodie talking with Quinn and Stacy. Refusing to believe the alternative, she said, "Jane, we already talked to Mack and Jodie. I'm not taking another lap around the party."

Jane gave Daria an exasperated look. "I'm not talking about Mack and Jodie." Daria raised her hand to her friend's forehead and Jane pushed it away. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for a fever. You just suggested that we go talk to my sister and one of her friends."

Jane's voice was getting irritated again, "I told Stacy I'd say hi. I didn't think it would be a problem. Aren't you and your sister getting along better these days?"

"For short periods of time, under controlled circumstances."

"Whatever, I'm going to go talk to them. Do what you want." Jane started walking towards Quinn and Stacy.

Daria turned and watched Jane's back as she walked off. She just couldn't understand her lately. It seemed like Jane was spending more time with Stacy than she needed to and now there was this need to spend time with their former classmates. Why did she need all that? Daria looked at the crowd around her and then back at Jane, who was halfway to her sister. She sighed and started to follow.

As she neared the group, Quinn spotted her and called out, "Daria! I didn't know you were coming. Come over and talk with us."

Jodie looked surprised. Daria wasn't sure if it was because she and Jane were still at the party, or because Quinn was acting so friendly towards her. Either way, she quickly recovered. "Daria, I'm glad I got to bump into you again. Are you enjoying the party?"

Daria walked the rest of the way to where the others were and stepped into the group between Quinn and Jane. Glancing over at Jane to see if she was mad, Daria gave Jodie a distracted, "Um, yeah."

Jane scoffed. "Oh, yeah. You know Daria, she's a real people person."

Daria started to get angry, but before she could say anything Mack changed the subject. "So we were talking about that theatre thing you guys are doing this summer."

Stacy spoke up. "Yeah, Jane's in charge of the art and Quinn's in the play. She's Hermia."

Quinn shot Daria a questioning look, but Daria shook her head. Quinn looked concerned, but continued the conversation. "Stacy, don't forget about yourself. You're the stage manager _and_ you're making all the costumes."

Stacy blushed. "Quinn, that's not true! Liz is doing a lot."

"Liz is great, but you did all the designs. We couldn't do anything without those," Jane argued.

Stacy blushed harder. "B-but, without your drawings I couldn't do anything. They're amazing." She hesitantly turned to Daria. "You've seen them right? The way the colors flow is so beautiful. I can't wait to see how the sets turn out."

Daria couldn't put her finger on it, but something about Stacy irritated her more than usual. "I wouldn't have thought you'd worry about color outside of your makeup." Stacy immediately started to tear up. Quinn glared at Daria and Jane elbowed her in the ribs. Wanting to avoid a scene, Daria quickly added, "It's a nice surprise."

Stacy sniffed and managed to keep herself together. "Um, thanks. I guess."

Jodie spoke up, obviously trying to keep the peace, "Well, it sounds like a fun program. It'll look great on your college applications."

Jane shook her head. "College applications? Your parents really did a number on you."

Mack chuckled and Jodie slapped his arm. He shrugged. "What? She's not wrong."

Jodie shook her head with a small smile. Turning to the two younger girls, she asked, "Speaking of college, do you two have any idea where you're going to apply next year?"

Quinn's face fell. "I don't know. I can't be too choosey; I mean I kinda wasted the first two years of high school, school-wise. Maybe I can get into a decent state school if I do well on the SATs."

When everyone turned to Stacy, she looked away and nervously said, "Um, I hadn't really thought about it."

Jodie quickly apologized, "I'm sorry. You haven't even started senior year. I'm just used to talking about it after the past few months."

Quinn put a hand on her friends shoulder. "Don't worry, Stacy. We'll figure it out. Maybe we can even go to school in the same city, like Daria and Jane."

Stacy gave an uneasy smile and said, "Um, sure. That sounds fun."

While it had been fun to watch Quinn and Stacy squirm over college, Daria was done for the night. She pulled Jane aside and said, "Alright, you've had your chat. Can we go?"

Jane still seemed upset. "I'm having fun Daria. You're free to leave whenever you want."

Daria felt betrayed. They always stuck together, especially at things like this. "Fine, have fun walking," she said and headed into the crowd before Jane could respond.

* * *

Quinn walked into the lunchroom with Gwen and Alex. She quickly scanned the room and spotted Liz and Stacy already sitting down. "Over there guys," she said, indicating the table.

Stacy gave a slow wave as they approached. "Hey," she said, lacking her usual energy.

"Hey, guys. Where's Steven?" Liz asked.

Alex sat down next to Liz. "He stayed behind to ask Mr. O'Neill something about theatre next year." He grinned and shook his head. "If I didn't live with him I'd swear theatre was all he thought about. So, what did you guys do for the Fourth yesterday?"

Next to him, Gwen said, "My family drove up to Oakwood for a big barbeque with my mom's family. She has four sisters and a brother and they all have at least two kids, so there are a ton of us. It was really fun, and I got to see my cousin's Emily's new baby."

Liz shrugged, "It was a day off. I just stayed home and watched TV." The table gave her a judgmental stare. "What? I like to relax when I get the chance." She turned to Alex and asked, "What did you do that was so amazing?"

Alex threw up his hands defensively. "Who said anything about amazing? Steven and I just went down to the water with our dad and watched the fireworks." He looked across the table at Quinn and Stacy and asked them, "What about you two?"

Quinn was jealous of Gwen and Alex. Her family never did anything together. "We just went to The Landon's Party."

Gwen's eyes opened wide and she leaned forward. "_Jodie_ Landon's Party? Like, with the seniors who just graduated? The popular ones?"

Quinn was surprised. She was so used to going to all the popular parties that she never even thought about it anymore. Was it that weird to go to older student's parties? When she realized everyone was waiting for an answer, she said, "Um, yeah. Is that so weird? I mean it's not like we were the only ones our age there."

Liz shook her head. "Let me ask you a question, Quinn. Gwen, Alex, and I are a year younger than you. If you were having a party, would you invite us?"

Quinn answered immediately, "Of course!"

Liz smiled. "Thanks, but let me rephrase my question. If you were throwing a party _last year_ would you invite us?"

"I didn't know you last year," Quinn said, confused.

Liz sighed. "Pretend you knew us, but we weren't friends. We were just some sophomores you'd met a few times."

Quinn blushed. "Um, I guess not."

"And which sophomores would you invite?"

Quinn put her hand on her chin and thought for a moment. "The popular ones, I guess. Although Sandi would say you shouldn't invite the really cute ones. But then I'd remind her that we had to keep an eye on them especially. Not that _I_ was ever worried, but you have to ask them so you look good and Sandi just didn't understand that so I had to convince her. Oh, and the cheerleaders and football players, and maybe some of the other popular sports if there was room," Quinn said, slipping into old habits without realizing it.

Everyone on the other side of the table was staring at her. Confused, Quinn thought over what she had just said. It all made sense, but it seemed cold. It was like she didn't care about the actual people, and she'd done it without even thinking. Was that how she sounded to people? Quinn lowered her head. In a quiet, introspective voice she said, "I think I get it now."

Liz shook herself out of her stupor. With a guilty look on her face, she asked, "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Quinn shook her head and forced a smile. "It's not your fault." Then, she remembered Stacy. If this had shaken her up, who knew what it would do to Stacy. She hadn't even said anything during the whole thing. Quinn quickly turned to check on the more sensitive girl and saw Stacy resting on her folded arms, breathing evenly. Quinn put a hand on Stacy's shoulder and shook her until she raised her head. "Stacy?"

Blinking her eyes, Stacy looked up at Quinn. In a groggy voice she asked, "Quinn? What time is it?"

Quinn looked up at the clock on the wall. "It's twelve thirty Stacy, _in the afternoon_." Across the table, Alex laughed. Quinn shot him a glare and he stopped. "What's going on with you lately? You've been out of it all week. Gwen had to ask you for her line three times this morning."

Stacy blinked a few more times as she sat up. Her face was an interesting mix of reds, from a combination of embarrassment and sleeping on her arms. Nervously, she said, "I'm fine, really. I've just been a little tired lately, that's all."

"Stacy, you don't fall asleep on tables from being a little tired." Quinn could tell Stacy needed a little push, like when she got nervous and couldn't make up her mind. She put her hand on Stacy's arm and firmly said, "You can't keep going like this; you've got to get it together. I know you can."

Stacy nodded, then stared down at her hands. "Right. You're right. Sorry, Quinn."

"Stacy, stop apologizing," Quinn chastised.

"Right," Stacy said again, still looking down.

Liz gave the two an odd look, then got the conversation back on track, "Okay, so what were we talking about?"

"The Fourth of July," Gwen answered. Turning to Stacy, she asked, "Quinn said you guys went to Jodie's party. What was it like?"

Stacy looked up and seemed to relax a bit. "It was fun. We got to hang out with Jane, I mean Ms. Lane, after Quinn's sister left."

"Quinn's sister?" Alex asked.

"Daria," Stacy said, a tinge of anxiety in her voice, "She's Ms. Lane's best friend."

Quinn crossed her arms under her chest. "And totally rude. She should _not_ have talked to you that way, even Jane was mad."

"Annoying siblings? Trust me, I know the feeling," Steven said, pulling out the chair next to Quinn.

"Gee, thanks, bro," Alex said sarcastically.

Quinn's anger at Daria was replaced with something else when Steven sat next to her. She looked over at him with a slight blush. "Hi, Steven. How'd it go with Mr. O'Neill?"

Steven groaned. "I swear he enjoys jerking me around. I talked to him for ten minutes and I still have no idea what he's planning."

"What's the problem?" asked Liz.

Alex answered, "Steven wants to be _avant-garde._ He was trying to convince Mr. O'Neill to put on a 'modern' play in the fall."

Steven corrected his brother, "I don't care about 'avant-garde'. I'd just like to be in a play written in the last two decades before I go to college. The theatre teacher at our last school didn't believe anything written before nineteen fifty was worth putting on."

Quinn threw her head back. "Ugh, can we _please_ not talk about college?"

"What's wrong with college?" asked Gwen.

"I…" Quinn looked at Steven and the rest of her new friends. She really didn't want them thinking she was stupid. In her best annoyed voice, she told a half-truth, "I'm just tired of everyone bugging me about it. Jodie was even asking us about it at the party last night, right Stacy?"

Stacy nodded stiffly. "Uh, yeah."

"I know what you mean," Steven said, "My dad's been going on about how I'll be the first one in our family to go to college since I started high school."

"Wow, no pressure," said Gwen.

"Let's talk about something else," Liz said, "Does anyone have plans for the weekend?"

Alex shrugged. "Not really."

"I was thinking about going to the movies on Saturday. Do any of you guys wanna come?" offered Gwen.

"Sounds fun," said Quinn.

"Yeah, I'm in," echoed Alex.

"No you're not," Steven said, shutting his brother down, "We're helping Dad set up his garden this weekend, remember?"

"Oh, right," Alex said hanging his head.

"Okay, so just us girls then," Quinn said. "What do you say? Liz? Stacy?"

Liz shrugged. "Yeah, alright. I don't have anything else planned."

Stacy shook her head. "Sorry. I wish I could, but I have to go see Ms. Lane about something."

"Oh, okay." Quinn was surprised, Stacy hadn't mentioned going to Jane's. Recovering, she turned to Gwen and Liz. "So I guess it's just us three then. What do you guys want to see?"

* * *

Stacy looked at the Lane's house as her mom pulled up to the curb. It was big, but it didn't look very well taken care of. The faded yellow paint was peeling in places and the yard was almost completely overgrown. It reminded her of what Jane had said about her parents. Stacy leaned across the center console and gave her mom a hug. "Thanks for the ride Mom."

Stacy's mom looked at her daughter in surprise, then smiled. "I need to give you rides more often if I get rewards like that. Go on, have fun."

"Thanks, bye."

Stacy grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car. She headed up the walkway, past an odd looking sculpture, and stopped at the front door. She remembered Jane telling her that the doorbell was broken and knocked politely. She waited a few minutes, not wanting to seem pushy, then knocked again, louder this time. She waited another minute, but no one answered. She was starting to get nervous, but reminded herself that Jane had said she would be here. Stacy pulled her fist back to knock as hard as she could. Just as she was about to swing it, the door opened.

A tall man with messy dark hair and a goatee, wearing a faded green shirt and torn jeans, stood in front of her. He stared at Stacy for a while, then, in a raspy voice, asked, "Is this about the cookies?"

Dumbfounded, Stacy struggled to come up with a response. Cookies? What was he talking about? Her anxiety started to rise again and she murmured, "Um… Is Jane here?"

"Did Jane order cookies? I think I ordered some too, or maybe I didn't have enough money…" He turned his head inside and shouted up the stairs, "Janey, did you order cookies?"

Stacy heard a door open inside the house, loud music pouring out. "What?" came Jane's voice.

The man raised his voice to be heard over the music. "There's a girl here with the cookies you ordered!"

"Um, I'm don't have any cookies. I'm just here to see Jane," Stacy interjected, wringing her hands.

The man turned looked at her skeptically. "If you don't have any cookies, then why are you here? I don't think she wants to join again, she hated that John Jacob guy."

Stacy shook her head, trying hard not to lose it. "No, look I—" she started, but lost her voice when Jane came down the stairs. She was wearing a dirty red t-shirt and some short white running shorts, without her usual leggings. Jane had really nice legs.

As she came down the stairs, Jane addressed the man, "Trent, what are you talking about? I didn't order any—" She stopped when she saw it was Stacy at the door. With an exasperated sigh she turned to the man Stacy now realized must be her brother. "Trent, this is Stacy. I told you she was coming over today, remember?" She tilted her head in confusion. "Wait, why did you think she had cookies?"

"Well she's a girl scout, so I thought she'd have cookies."

Jane opened her mouth to say something, then stopped and rubbed her temple. "Why would you think she was a girl scout?"

Trent looked back at Stacy. "She looks like a girl scout."

Jane looked at Stacy as well and seemed to consider the argument for a moment, then shook her head. "She's not even wearing a uniform."

"Yeah, but she was in the girl scouts with you," he said matter-of-factly.

Jane gave Trent a questioning glance, then replied, "That was a long time ago Trent. Look, this is Stacy and we're—"

"Oh, Daria's sister's friend. Right," he said, with a look of realization.

Jane sighed. "If she comes by again just send her up to my room, alright?"

"Sure thing, Janey. I'll be in the basement if you need me," Trent said, then turned and headed into the house.

Jane shook her head. "Sorry about that, Trent gets some weird ideas sometimes." She looked Stacy up and down. "You _do_ have some other clothes in that bag right? Jeans aren't exactly great for running."

Stacy nodded. "I've got some workout clothes. Is there somewhere I can change?"

Jane started up the stairs. "Come on, my rooms up here."

"Alright." Following Jane up the stairs, Stacy caught herself staring at Jane's legs from behind and wondered why she was doing this. She was only torturing herself, hanging out with Jane when she knew she'd never feel the same way. Maybe she liked it; she'd followed Sandi around for all those years after all.

Jane stopped next to one of the doors along the upstairs hallway. "This is my room. Go ahead and change; I'll wait out here."

"Thanks. I'll just take a minute"

Stacy walked in and closed the door behind her. She looked around the messy room and had to suppress a compulsive urge to start cleaning. Setting her bag down on the surprisingly neat bed, Stacy pulled out her workout clothes. As she took off the clothes she was wearing, neatly folding them as she went, she briefly wondered what Jane would think of the outfit she'd picked. It was a stupid thought—Jane didn't care about clothes, much less how they looked on her—but Stacy still hoped Jane would like them. She quickly pulled on her lycra shorts and powder blue tank top, put her hair back in a ponytail, and headed out of the room.

Jane was leaning against the wall across from the door listening to something on her headphones. When she saw Stacy, she put them around her neck and asked, "Ready to sweat?" Stacy blushed at Jane's choice of words and nodded. "Cool. You can just toss your bag anywhere. Oh, did you bring some music?" Jane tapped her headphones for emphasis.

Stacy blushed. "Oh, right." She reached into the outside pocket of her bag and pulled out a Walkman, then set the bag inside Jane's room. As they walked downstairs, Stacy asked, "So, where are we going?"

"Just around the neighborhood. There's a couple of nice parks around here."

"Thanks again for taking me. I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem. Don't worry about it."

"Right, sorry."

Jane smiled back at Stacy as she opened the front door, and asked, "Has anyone ever told you you're too polite?"

**::**

Stacy walked out of Jane's bathroom, back in her normal clothes after a quick shower to rinse off the sweat. Running was definitely more of a workout than yoga; she couldn't believe Jane had barely even broken a sweat. When she got back to Jane's room, Jane was laying on the bed watching TV.

"Thanks for the shower. I guess I'll leave now."

Jane muted the TV and looked up. "You sure? I thought you might want to stick around for a while. We could watch a movie or something."

"You don't mind? I mean, I know I'm not exactly the kind of person you normally hang out with."

Jane sat up and turned to face Stacy. "Well, maybe I should try something new. The person I usually hang out with is being kind of a bitch right now, in case you hadn't noticed."

Stacy's face fell a bit when Jane mentioned Daria. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you two fight."

"What, at the party?" Jane asked. "Daria's been acting weird all week. She just gets like this sometimes. It's not your fault. So, do you wanna watch a movie or what?"

"Um, sure. I guess."

"Cool," Jane said as she stood up, "Go ahead and sit down while I order some pizza. You eat that _cheeseless_ stuff, right?" She made a face as she said the word.

Stacy giggled at Jane's expression and shook her head. "Not today. The whole point of running is so that I can have real food sometimes, right? Get me whatever you're having."

Jane looked at Stacy with respect. "Alright, an extra-large with everything for the two of us then. Help yourself to the TV while I call the pizza place."

Stacy sat down on Jane's bed and grabbed the remote. She started flipping through the channels, not finding anything worth watching. When Jane finished ordering the pizza, she walked over to her closet and started rummaging around.

"What are you doing?" Stacy asked, fighting the urge to offer to organize the mess.

Without turning around, Jane answered, "I'm looking for a movie to watch. Ah, perfect!" She held up a VHS box like some lost treasure. "_Flash Gordon_, hilariously camp with a soundtrack by Queen," she explained, as she walked over to the TV. "Can you put it on three?"

Stacy changed the channel and Jane started to set up the tape. As she watched Jane, Stacy remembered something Trent had said earlier. Without thinking, she asked, "Do you remember it?"

"Hmm?" Jane hit play and started fast forwarding past the previews.

"Girl Scouts, your brother was talking about it."

Jane chuckled. "I try to forget."

In a sad voice, Stacy said, "I liked it."

Jane found the start of the movie and hit pause. Sitting down next to Stacy on the bed, she asked, "So why'd you quit?"

"Sandi," Stacy said, surprised by the venom in her voice. She'd thrown herself into the play since their fight and managed to not think about her, but talking about where it all started caused something in Stacy to snap. She imitated the former fashion club president's throaty, condescending tone, "The uniforms are so, like, ugly, and they want _me_ to go out and sell those stupid little cookies in _public_?" Stacy's voice grew louder and tears started streaming down her face. "Damn it Sandi! I liked the uniforms! I liked selling those cookies! I liked all of it! Why did _I_ have to quit too?"

Jane put a gentle hand on Stacy's shoulder. In a surprisingly understanding voice, she said, "Hey. It's okay. It's not your fault."

Stacy drew up her legs and dropped her head on her knees. She was too far gone to care that Jane was seeing her like this, although in a small rational corner of her mind she knew she'd regret it later. "Yes it is. I didn't stand up for myself. I never do. It was my choice to go. I'm just weak and stupid."

Jane wrapped her arms around the smaller girl. While maintaining her awkward hold Jane softly spoke, "Shh. You're not stupid. You stayed with a friend, even when it hurt you. Trust me, not many people will do that. Besides, you got rid of her in the end. You're done with all that, remember?"

Stacy bitterly mumbled, "Took me long enough. Wasted half my life on her. Couldn't even do it on my own."

Jane gave Stacy a squeeze. "Unless you plan on dying before you graduate, I'm pretty sure it won't be half your life. Sometimes it just takes a long time for something good to happen." Something about the way Jane said it made Stacy believe her.

They sat silently together for a few minutes, Jane's arms around Stacy's shoulders and Stacy's head resting on her knees. Eventually, Stacy looked up at Jane, their faces inches apart. She felt a twinge of embarrassed panic, but it barely registered through everything else she was feeling. "W-why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice?"

Jane dropped one of her arms, keeping the other around Stacy's shoulders. She turned her head towards the hallway, and said, "Because someone did it for me."

Stacy looked down at her hands, then back up at Jane. In a still shaky voice, she asked, "Um, you said something like that before. W-what do you mean?"

Jane looked conflicted. She looked at Stacy, staring into her eyes, then looked down and sighed. "Me and my big mouth. Alright, let's make a deal. What you're asking about is really personal, but I'll tell you about it _if _you tell me what's really going on with you and Sandi. No offense, but no one gets this torn up over just Girl Scouts."

Stacy's stomach did a backflip. Jane was offering to share something really personal with her; from the way she was talking it sounded like she didn't share this with just anyone. But, she would have to tell her about Sandi, and that meant telling her everything that went along with that. Stacy chewed at her lip, trying to decide. Eventually, possibly due to her emotional fatigue, her curiosity overpowered her fear. "Um, okay. I guess."

The two sat awkwardly for a moment, unsure where to start. A loud knock at the front door caused both girls to jump. Jane seemed relieved at the temporary reprieve and quickly stood up. "Right, the pizza. I'll go pay," she said as she hurried out the door.

Stacy sat in a daze, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. She was completely embarrassed over freaking out in front of Jane like that, not to mention being held by her. She was nervous too, not just about talking about Sandi, but also about whatever it was Jane was going to tell her. She shook herself out of her thoughts and took a few deep breaths.

By the time Stacy had pulled herself together, Jane was walking into the room, balancing the pizza, two glasses, and a two liter bottle of Ultra Cola. Stacy jumped up to help and together they got everything laid out between them on the bed.

They ate in an awkward silence, until Jane finally spoke, "Before I start, I want to make something clear. I'm not just telling you this because I want to know what's up with you and Sandi. You seem like you might actually get this kind of thing, and I could really use someone to talk about this with other than Trent."

"What about Daria?"

Jane took a long swig of her soda and explained in a frustrated voice, "Daria wouldn't understand something like this. She's never had any real problems with people. She doesn't' need them. I'm her friend, and she'd probably be sad if I was gone, but if she'd never met me I think she'd be fine alone."

"Oh," was all Stacy could manage.

"You seem like you get the whole pain of human interaction thing though. Not just the Sandi stuff, but your art too."

Stacy blushed. "Thanks, I guess."

Jane took a big bite out of a slice of pizza and sighed. "Well, I guess I better get started, huh? You know how I said I try to forget Girl Scouts?" Stacy nodded. "Well that's not completely true. I'll kill you if you tell anyone this, but I had a lot of fun. It was just one more thing that got ruined when I started middle school. You left when I was in fourth grade, how many friends do you remember me having?"

Stacy had to think for a minute. It was a long time ago, but she thought Jane had friends. She certainly wasn't alone, like Sandi. She would remember that. "I'm not sure. I guess you were pretty normal?"

"Normal." Jane scoffed. "Yeah, that works. I was normal. Until middle school. Do you remember how many friends I had in middle school?" Jane's voice was getting heated.

"Um, I…"

"Think. We were in the same school for two years. How many friends did I have?"

Again, Stacy racked her brain. Jane was right of course, they had been in the same school. She tried to think of the few times she'd seen the older girl in the halls. "I guess—"

"None. From sixth grade up until sophomore year I had no friends." Jane's voice was bitter and there was a glint of moisture in her eyes.

Barely above a whisper, Stacy said, "I'm sorry."

"What?" The sudden apology seemed to have shaken her from her frustration.

Stacy was on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry. I ignored you. I should have been helping you, instead of trying to fix Sandi. I'd been trying to do that too long at that point anyway."

Jane smirked. "Hey, this is supposed to be my tragic backstory. We'll get to yours in a minute." After a pause, she added, "Thanks though."

"So, um, what happened?"

Jane took another bite of pizza and washed it down with some soda before explaining, "A lot of things, but mostly my parents. I guess they figured that since I was in middle school and Trent was almost done with high school their job was done. They started going on trips, leaving for months at a time, until they were barely ever here at all." Jane stopped to take another drink. "We're not poor you know. Mom and Dad are pretty successful, they just have a tendency to forget to put their money in a bank account Trent and I can get to."

"That's terrible!"

"See, this is why I wanted to talk to you about this. Trent and I are so used to it that it feels normal. It's nice to have an objective outsider confirm that my parents are horrible. Anyway, when I started middle school, Trent and I were still getting used to living on our own. Casa Lane was not always the smooth running operation you see today. I was late, dirty, and a lot of the time I didn't have a lunch or money to buy one. You know how middle school is; everyone judges everyone else, but there's always that one kid who gets singled out to be the worst, the one everybody can feel better than. That was me." A bit of vulnerability and genuine sadness broke through Jane's usual sarcastic barrier, "The weirdo. The freaky art girl. Hobo. Stain Lane."

Hearing it again, Stacy remembered some of that. Being popular and next to the scariest girl in her grade, she never had to worry about that kind of thing, but it always made her uncomfortable when people talked like that. She never did anything though. "I remember. I should have done something. I _could_ have done something." She balled her fist and slammed it on her leg in frustration. "Dang it, why didn't I?"

Jane shook her head. "If you'd tried to help me you just would have been dragged down yourself."

"That doesn't make it okay. I should have helped, at least then you wouldn't have been alone. I'm sorry."

Jane smiled. "Thanks. That actually means a lot." She chuckled, brightening. "Can you imagine what that would be like? Us being friends from middle school?"

Stacy smiled sadly, "It would definitely be better. I'd rather have spent the past five years with you than Sandi. She was my best friend, but I don't think I was ever hers. I don't think anyone was. I should have gotten away from her years ago."

"So why didn't you? I told you my big secret, now it's your turn."

Stacy took a drink of her soda, trying to delay the inevitable. Finally, she said, "Okay, but you have to make two promises. You can't tell anyone and you won't freak out and hate me."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "What, did you and Sandi murder someone and hide the body?"

"Promise."

"Alright, alright. Scouts honor," Jane said, smirking at the last part.

"Okay." Stacy took a deep breath. "It started in Girl Scouts. I felt sorry for Sandi."

"You felt _sorry_ for her?"

"She wasn't always as bad as she is now, her mom did a lot of that to her. Not that that excuses it. Anyway, she was all alone and didn't know how to deal with other people. I wanted to help her. So I tried, but everyone else started avoiding _me_ too. I figured that if I could help Sandi learn to work with people, we could all be friends again." Stacy's voice grew bitter, "That was my first big mistake. Sandi Griffon doesn't make friends. Eventually, Sandi left the Girls Scouts, and I left with her."

"Why didn't you just ditch her and go back to everyone else?" Jane asked.

Stacy sighed. She had asked herself that question a lot of times over the years. "I still wanted to help her and… I was afraid."

"Afraid of what? Sandi trying to strangle you with a scrunchie?"

Stacy couldn't help but smile at that mental image. "No, afraid of being alone. You should understand more than anyone. She was my only friend. Maybe someone would take me back, but what if they didn't? Wouldn't you go through a lot if you thought you might end up alone?"

Jane looked down for a while, then chuckled bitterly. "You forgive pretty much anything."

Stacy hesitated, then asked, "Jane, are you okay?"

Jane looked up. "That's a secret for another day. Go on, you were talking about leaving Girl Scouts."

"Um, right. So, we hung out together. Eventually, Sandi got good at intimidating people and some other girls joined us. Then… middle school."

"You too?"

Stacy nodded. In a serious and somewhat scared voice, she said, "This is the part where you have to keep your promise, okay? I've only told this to one other person." Jane nodded. Stacy looked down and continued, "Okay, so Sandi and I were in middle school, and that's when you start to like people, and… that's when I started to like Sandi." Stacy slowly looked up, scared of Jane's reaction.

Jane had a thoughtful expression on her face. "So that's what the dress was about."

"What?" Stacy was caught off guard. No one reacted to her coming out the way she expected, although this was at least better than she'd feared.

"The colors coming out of the blandness. Unfolding after being repressed."

"Um, yeah, I guess," Stacy said, blushing.

"So what made you like her? I mean, no offense, but you've got pretty lousy taste. Not that I have room to talk."

Stacy grabbed a piece of pizza and took a few bites, buying herself time to think. After she was finished, she answered, "I'm not sure. I guess I always thought there was someone better underneath. I mean, she was my best friend. I couldn't believe she was all bad."

Jane continued to grill Stacy, "Are you over her?"

"I think so. I definitely don't want to be around her anymore, but there are some times when I think about her." Stacy was relieved Jane hadn't asked if she liked someone else.

Jane nodded. "I think that's normal. At least she's not dating your best friend. Trust me, that makes it a lot harder."

"Right, the Tom thing. I was really surprised you and Daria stayed friends after that."

"We almost didn't. But it's like you said, I didn't really have much of a choice. I was afraid to go back to having no friends," Jane explained, then took a bite of her pizza. "That's not the only reason of course. Daria's a good friend. I would have tried to patch things up, even if I did have more friends. You know?"

Stacy nodded. "I think so."

An awkward silence stretched out, neither girl sure where to take the conversation. Eventually, Jane spoke up, "Well, I think that's plenty of soul baring for one night." Jane grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. "You ready for a movie?"

* * *

Jane turned off the TV and looked down at her bed. Stacy was curled up at one end like a cat, dozing peacefully. Jane carefully got up, then grabbed a blanket and placed it over the sleeping girl. She'd made it through _Flash Gordon_, but dozed off right after they started watching TV.

Jane stared down at the younger girl and chuckled. She'd certainly never expected to have Stacy Rowe in her bed. She hadn't expected her to be so interesting either. When Stacy got past her anxiety, she was actually pretty fun to hang out with. She was talented too. Jane didn't know much about clothes, but the costumes Stacy had made so far were amazing. She'd taken Jane's sketches and brought them to life, changing them to make them work in a different medium without losing the feel of the original.

More than anything else though, Stacy got her. Not just her art, but her past too. Jane still wasn't sure why she'd opened up to her like that, but she was glad she had. Trent was great to talk to, but he'd never really dealt with that kind of isolation. Stacy had. She didn't offer empty consolations, she just poured her heart out in regret for not doing anything. It made Jane really hate Sandi Griffin. Not just annoyance or dislike, but hate. For all she did to Stacy, and for keeping her from getting to know Stacy until she was about to move out of state.

The phone's ring pulled Jane from her thoughts. She blushed as she hurried over to the phone, realizing she'd been staring down at Stacy's sleeping face for several minutes. She ducked into the hall with the phone, hoping not to wake Stacy.

"Hello?"

"Hi Jane," Mrs. Rowe's cheery voice came over the line, "Can I talk to Stacy?"

"That might be a little bit of a problem."

Panic crept into Ms. Rowe's voice, "Is she okay? What's wrong?"

"Whoah, calm down. Everything's fine," Jane said, chuckling disarmingly. "She just fell asleep watching TV."

There was an audible sigh of relief on the other side of the line. "Don't scare me like that. Look, do you mind letting her stay over? I'd rather not wake her up if I don't have to."

"Um, I guess not. Why?"

Stacy's mom sighed again, this time in resignation. "She's been falling asleep like that a lot lately. It's actually starting to worry me a little. I didn't want to say anything because she's been doing so well, but I think she's been working too herself too hard lately. I've caught her staying up late working on those costumes more than once."

Thinking back, Jane remembered Stacy's frequent yawns and drowsy demeanor the past week or so. She cursed to herself. Even if she didn't take it very seriously, it was her job as a teacher to watch out for her students. Now her most important one was losing sleep working on the extra work she'd pushed her to do. She remembered Daria lecturing her when she first took the job and could just hear her saying "I told you so."

"I'm really sorry Mrs. Rowe. I'll call Mr. O'Neill tonight and we'll figure something out so Stacy isn't so overworked," Jane said, her guilt evident in her voice.

"Jane, honey, it's not your fault," Mrs. Rowe reassured her, "Stacy's just figuring out her limits now that she's coming out of her shell."

A small smile formed on Jane's face; she could see where Stacy got her kindness. "Thanks. I still have to talk to Mr. O'Neill about it though. Responsibility for student welfare and all that. Could you not tell Stacy? I'd like to get everything figured out before we talk."

"I understand, I trust you to handle it. Can you give her a ride home in the morning? I've got brunch with some friends and I can cancel if I have to, but—"

"It's no problem. I can use my brother's car. He's never up before noon anyway."

Mrs. Rowe chuckled. "Alright, thanks. Goodnight Jane."

"'Night."

Jane leaned back against the wall and stared at the phone in her hands. She really didn't want to call Sean. She knew he would pull Stacy off of working on either the play or the costumes. Either way, she was pretty sure Stacy would be crushed. Wanting to do both was the reason she was working herself to exhaustion in the first place, and it would be Jane's fault that she couldn't any more.

Pushing off from the wall, Jane headed downstairs. She didn't really know what time it was and the only working clock outside of her room was on the microwave. If she was lucky, it might be too late to call Sean. When she reached the kitchen, she found Trent digging through the fridge.

"Anything in there that hasn't developed the ability to move under its own power?" Jane asked, walking around to look over Trent's shoulder.

"This looks alright," Trent said pulling out a pitcher full of purple liquid. "Want some?"

"What the hell, not like I really want to live through the rest of the night anyway," Jane replied, more bitterly than she'd intended.

"Whoah, what's wrong? Did you and the girl scout have a fight or something?"

Jane shook her head. "No, we actually had a really good talk. Apparently I'm not the only one middle school sucked for."

"Hmm." Trent found a couple of mostly clean glasses and began pouring. "You don't usually talk about that. You never even mentioned it to Daria, right?"

For some reason, Jane found herself blushing. "It's… different. Like I said, she has stuff too." She grabbed a glass and stared down at its contents for a while, before continuing. "She really gets it."

"Cool. I always thought it was weird you only had one friend."

"Gee, thanks Trent. Sorry it took me so long to find another person who would put up with me," Jane snapped.

"I mean it was weird because you're so cool. You're not a joiner or anything, but you like people. You always have. You were happy hanging out with Daria so I never said anything, but I always thought it was weird you didn't make more friends."

"Oh," Jane said, anger deflating. She absentmindedly took a sip of the mystery drink. "Hmm, purple flavor."

Trent sipped at his own. "Must be from when Summer's kids were over a couple of weeks ago."

They drank in silence for a few minutes, then Jane said, "She makes it hard, y'know?"

"Hmm?"

"Daria. She makes it hard to make more friends. She gets all jealous and bitchy."

Trent nodded. "Yeah. Daria's a loner. She doesn't need other people, but she got attached to you and now she's afraid of losing you. She thinks everyone else around you is trying to steal you from her. She doesn't get that you can have more than one friend."

"I'm starting to figure that out. Why couldn't you have told me this two years ago?"

Trent shrugged. "I thought it was obvious." Jane stared at him. "So why were you so mad earlier?"

"Work. I have to call the head of the program and talk to him about Stacy falling asleep all the time."

"What's wrong with sleeping?" Trent asked, clearly confused.

"Well Trent, unlike you, most people don't randomly nod off. She's exhausted from working too hard. She's passed in my room right now."

"So why is helping her a bad thing?"

Jane sighed in frustration. "Because it means Stacy's going to have to give up one of the things she's working on, maybe the costumes." In a smaller, more vulnerable voice she added, "And because she might not want to hang out with the person who made her give something up."

Trent gave Jane a knowing smile and put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "I don't think you have to worry about that Janey. I get the feeling she likes you way too much to worry about something like that."

"Thanks," Jane said, examining the kitchen floor.

Trent smiled at her. "I'm gonna go upstairs and get some sleep. Try not to worry too much, okay?" he said before leaving for his room.

Jane sighed and looked up at the microwave. 7:34. Late, but not too late. Might as well get it over with.

* * *

**Yo,**

**As always, thanks for reading.**

**I feel like my style might be shifting. Don't know if that's good or bad, but there it is. Like I said before, this is my first time writing fiction in a long time, and I wasn't all that good back then.**

**This should be about halfway through. That's subject to change of course, but it's what's plotted out right now at least.**

**Edit: 8/14/15 Cleanup, added a sentence here, removed one there, so on.**


	6. Chapter 6

Stacy walked down the hall with Quinn, not really listening to her friend. She was smiling and almost skipping. Last weekend had been great. Well, except for falling asleep at Jane's and not waking up until eleven thirty the next morning, that had been mortifying. Jane had been totally cool though, completely calming her down and buying her lunch on the way home.

That wasn't the important part though. What was making her so happy was that Jane wanted to spend time with her. Not just for school stuff, but to just hang out. They'd really opened up to each other too. She had been so scared of what Jane would say when she came out to her, but Jane had just questioned her taste in girls. Stacy giggled thinking of that, considering how she felt about Jane, then felt her mood darken a little. Things were great, but they weren't what she wanted. She told herself that this was good enough, that pushing things would just ruin everything, but part of her was still unsatisfied.

"Stacy!" Quinn yelled, raising her voice over the conversational tone Stacy had been ignoring.

"Wha?" Stacy jerked her head towards her friend, startled.

"Well, what do you think?" Quinn asked expectantly.

"Um…" Stacy looked around nervously, trying to figure out what Quinn was asking her about.

Quinn gave an exasperated sigh. "My shoes, Stacy."

"Oh!" Stacy said, looking down, "They're totally cute."

"I know, right? I got them when I took Gwen and Liz shopping after the movie this weekend. I really wish you could have come, I could have used your help. Those two are cool, but they need a serious wardrobe makeover, especially Liz. What were you doing over at Jane's anyway?"

"Oh, um, just hanging out," Stacy answered, trying to keep cool but unable to keep a smile off her face.

Quinn gasped and an almost predatory grin formed on her face. "Something happened!"

"Nothing happened," Stacy said, trying to keep her voice down and avoid the attention of the other students in the hall, "We just hung out, really."

"Come on Stacy, something _clearly_ happened." Quinn leaned in closer and whispered, "Did you tell her you liked her?"

Stacy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? No!" she almost yelled, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth and looking around to see if anyone had heard her.

Quinn continued, undeterred, "Okay, so you're just laying the groundwork for now, that's fine. But you've got to ask her out soon. You only have a few months until she leaves."

Stacy sighed and looked down. "Quinn, I don't even know if I'm ready to date yet, much less ask out someone I have to see every day. What if she said no? There's no way I could be around her all the time; I'd have to quit the program and I'd lose a friend."

Quinn's crossed her arms. "Fine, but we're talking about this again at the end of the summer when we're done with the play," Quinn said with finality.

Stacy forced a smile and resigned herself to another session of Quinn pushing her to ask Jane out. She meant well, but she just didn't get it. Stacy had Jane as a friend, and that was enough. It had to be.

As the girls entered the auditorium, Mr. O'Neill called out to Stacy from the side of the stage, "Ms. Rowe, please come see me backstage. There's something I need to discuss with you." He walked off into the wings before Stacy could ask anything.

Quinn shot her friend a confused look, but Stacy just shook her head and shrugged. "Guess I'd better go. See you later," Stacy said and headed down to the stage.

"Later."

Stacy walked toward the stage, wondering what Mr. O'Neill wanted. She was a little nervous, but this was hardly the first time he'd asked to talk to her before things got started; sometimes he'd think up some blocking or something between classes and give it to her.

The wings were mostly empty, the props and set not having been finished yet. A small table had been placed against one wall, a chair on either side. Mr. O'Neill sat in the far chair, his hands interlocked and his face conflicted. When he noticed Stacy, he motioned for her to join him.

"Ms. Rowe, please have a seat," he said, his bored voice sounding more serious than usual. Once Stacy was seated, he continued, "Do you know why I've asked to talk to you?"

Stacy shook her head. "No, do you have some notes?"

"No, not today. I'd like to talk about your workload."

"My workload?" Stacy asked, starting to get nervous.

"Yes, you've got a lot on your plate. You've already got a demanding job here during the day, and you're working on the costumes at home on top of that."

"I'm fine, really," Stacy said a bit too fast.

"You're not in trouble Ms. Rowe," Mr. O'Neill reassured her. "As your teacher I just have to make sure you're not doing anything that might cause you to—" He shook his head. "Ugh, I sound like my cousin. Look, this is going to sound strange, but how has your sleep been lately?"

Stacy wrung her hands and hesitantly answered, "I guess I might be getting a little too much sleep lately."

Mr. O'Neill eyebrows went up. "I'm sorry, did you say too _much_?"

Stacy nodded, her face tinged red. "Um, Yeah. I mean, I fell asleep without realizing it last weekend and slept for over twelve hours. Plus, I've been dozing off sometimes at lunch and I get tired a lot, which is _like_ sleeping. It's really a problem, I didn't even get to work on—"

"_Ms. Rowe_," Mr. O'Neill interrupted, "Have you considered that the reason you've been falling asleep during the day might be that you're working too hard and not getting enough sleep at _night_?"

Stacy's blush grew. "I guess I _have_ been staying up late working on the costumes some. Okay, a lot. I just want them to be perfect you know? Ja— I mean Ms. Lane's designs are just so beautiful and I want to capture them just right."

Mr. O'Neill ran a hand through his hair. "And how much time have you spent _not_ working over the past few weeks, during the day?"

Stacy thought for a minute, then hesitantly said, "Um, not much I guess. Between the costumes, studying all the cues for the script, and helping Quinn practice I've been pretty busy."

"So, you're losing sleep and not giving yourself any time to relax. Can you see how that might be a problem?"

Stacy looked down at the table and said, "Yes."

Mr. O'Neill sighed. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but I can't allow you to risk your health. You're going to have to choose between working on the costumes or as the stage manager."

Without thinking, the answer came out of Stacy's mouth, "I want to do the costumes." She quickly tried to justify, "I-I mean, because someone else can be the stage manager, but we only have two people that can sew."

Mr. O'Neill smirked in amusement. "It's fine, Ms. Rowe. Can I have your script? Your replacement will need it."

"Oh, right." Stacy picked up her backpack and pulled out her script. After a moment of hesitation, she handed it to the teacher. "Sorry I couldn't handle both."

Mr. O'Neill shook his head. "You tried to take on too much and we let you. That's our fault, not yours. I hope it won't keep you from theatre next year, you're talented and a hard worker."

Stacy blushed again, flattered. "Oh, um thanks."

Mr. O'Neill looked over at the door to the hall. "Ms. Lane should be waiting outside."

"Thanks. Again." Stacy said, getting up and heading for the door.

In the hallway, Jane was leaning against the wall across from the door looking surprisingly nervous. Stacy figured it must have something to do with last weekend. She was certainly still nervous about it; just seeing Jane was making her heart beat faster.

As the door finished closing, Jane said "I'm sorry."

"What?" Stacy asked, caught off guard.

Jane pushed herself off the wall. "I'm sorry. I ratted you out. Your mom told me how you were losing sleep and I told Mr. O'Neill."

"Oh, um, don't worry about it."

Jane looked at Stacy with a mix of disbelief and concern. Putting her hand on the smaller girl's shoulder, she said, "Stacy, you just got told you have to drop something you've been working yourself to death over. It's okay to be mad."

Stacy shook her head. "I know it's weird, but I'm really not upset. Maybe it's because all this is happening so fast. I didn't even realize I was losing sleep. Thanks to you, I can concentrate on the costumes _and_ avoid getting those ugly circles under my eyes."

"Glad you have you priorities," Jane snarked. "So you picked making the costumes over that stage stuff?"

"Um, yeah. I figured since we only have two people who can sew, costumes are more important."

Jane started to look guilty again. "Stacy, if you don't want to—"

"No! I do. It's just—" Stacy sighed in frustration. "It's hard to explain. Being the stage manager is fun, and I know it's important, but it's all taking notes and reminding people of things. I've been doing that for years in the fashion club. With the costumes I get to actually _make_ things. They're going to be on stage for everyone to see, and that's terrifying, but also kind of cool. Does that make sense?"

"You really are an artist, aren't you?" Jane said, her voice a mixture of surprise and respect.

"I guess?"

::

Stacy and Liz sat alone at their usual table in the cafeteria. The rest of their usual group wasn't there yet, Mr. O'Neill tended to keep the actors late giving them notes.

Looking up from her lunch, a loaded up sandwich instead of her usual salad, Stacy asked, "So Liz, are all of the other art students always so…"

"Lazy?" Liz finished. "Yeah. I think most people took art thinking they wouldn't have to do any real work and the rest are happy to just work on their own stuff with the supplies for the play. Ms. Lane doesn't seem to mind though. I think she wanted to do all the stuff for the play herself anyway."

"I guess that makes sense. It seems kind of wrong though."

Liz shrugged, finishing a drink of her soda. "I thought so too at first, but it seems to work for everyone. Speaking of class, are you going to bring your sewing stuff and the costumes to school? I've been curious how they turned out."

"I hope they're okay; Ms. Lane says she likes them, but it'll be nice to get the opinion of someone who knows clothes. Ms. Lane's giving me a ride tomorrow and we're getting all my stuff from my house then." Stacy paused, and in a slightly ashamed voice added, "They don't want me working on them at home anymore."

"No offense, but I'm glad they made you cut back. You were working way too hard."

Stacy nodded. "Yeah, it's obvious now, but I didn't even realize it before. It must be one of those things that someone else has to point out."

"Hey guys!" Gwen called, approaching the table with the rest of their group in tow.

As everyone sat down and started getting out their lunches, Quinn turned to Stacy and asked, "Stacy, what happened this morning? Mr. O'Neill said you decided to stop being stage manager."

"Quinn nearly blew a gasket," Alex added, grinning.

Blushing and looking down, Stacy said, "Well, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and I had to choose between making the costumes and being the stage manager. It's fun working with you guys, but I really like doing the costumes and they kind of need me because Liz and I are the only ones who can sew."

Stacy hesitantly looked up at her friends. Liz was keeping quiet, letting her decide how much to say. Sitting beside Liz, Gwen was looking at her like she was an abandoned puppy. The boys were more reserved, but looked sympathetic. Quinn just waved a hand dismissively.

"That's not true. You can _totally_ do both. Sure, you've been a little sleepy lately, but you've been doing such a good job. Have a little more confidence in yourself," Quinn said, her tone reassuring, but slightly condescending.

Stacy squirmed in her seat. "Um, Quinn, I've been _really_ tired lately. I don't think it's a good idea to keep doing both."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Stacy, you've got to stop underestimating yourself like that. I know Sandi made you feel bad about yourself, but you're doing so well! You just have to trust me. You can—"

"They made her choose," Liz interjected.

"What?" Quinn asked, turning to face the dark haired girl.

"Mr. O'Neill found out how little sleep she's been getting. He made her choose between working on the costumes and being the stage manager."

Quinn turned back to Stacy and said, "Don't worry, Stacy. I'll talk to my mom. I'm sure she can make him let you do both."

Stacy was getting frustrated. She took a deep breath, looked Quinn in the eye, and said, "Quinn, I know you're trying to be nice, but I don't want to do both. I'm tired. I'm glad Jane told Mr. O'Neill."

"Wait, _Jane_ told him? Look Stacy I know you—" Quinn looked around the table "—have been, um, working with her a lot, but you can't let her do that to you. You've got to stand up for yourself."

Stacy felt something inside of her snap. "Stand up for myself? Stand up for myself!? Okay, Quinn. Here I go." She grabbed the smaller girl by the shoulders. "Stop bossing me around! Ever since that night at Sandi's you've been telling me what to do. You think you're _helping_? You're just ordering me around, the same way she did! I'm sick and tired of being told what to do Quinn! I'm a big girl and I can make my own decisions! You want to talk about Jane? _Jane_ doesn't tell me what to do! She just listens and helps. Like a friend.

"Stand up, right?" Stacy stood up, knocking her chair back. "Okay! Hey, as long as I'm standing up for myself, why don't I just walk out the door for myself too?" Ignoring the stares of the other students and the growing uneasiness in her gut, Stacy strode out of the cafeteria.

* * *

Daria stared off into space from her station behind the café's counter, lost in thought. Jane still hadn't called. Didn't she understand that they only had a little more than a month before they'd be if different cities, hell, states? This was supposed to be their last summer, the one where she wouldn't have to do anything and they could just hang out before going to college. Instead, they were both working, and apparently weren't talking to each other.

Was it about the party? If she'd been a little bitchy that night, it was only because Jane had dragged her out after such a crappy day. Okay, so she'd left her without a ride, but Jane had told her to go. Why had Jane become so damn social all of a sudden anyway?

Daria shook her head. It didn't really matter. Regardless of whatever was going on with Jane, she still wanted to hang out with her best friend in the few weeks she had before she left. She resolved to go over to Jane's and try to patch things up when she got off work, hopefully her friend could squeeze her into her busy social calendar.

The chime on the door rang and Daria's focus returned to the café. To her great surprise, a slightly disheveled Sandi Griffin walked through the door. Her usually carefully styled hair was frizzy and her makeup was uneven in places. When she reached the counter she gave Daria an unsettling smirk.

Daria tried to ignore the look and proceeded to deal with Sandi as she usually would, sarcasm. "Are you lost? We sell coffee and books here. You know, bad for the skin, good for the brain?"

Sandi replied in her usual condescending tone, "Like I would ever shop _here_. I came here because I have some information I think you may be interested in."

"Unless it's your order, the only thing I'm interested in how to get out of this conversation."

"Even if it's about your little girlfriend or whatever?"

"Wow, that's a new one. Did you run out of gossip and decide to start rerunning the classics? Jane and I are not now, nor have we ever been, dating."

Sandi flipped her hair. "If you say so. I guess it doesn't matter that Stacy has been spending her nights at your _friend's_ house then."

Normally Daria would just ignore gossip like this, but something about the idea of Jane hanging out with Stacy made her feel the need to explain what was actually going on. "They're working on the costumes for that play they're working on, not making out."

Sandi's smirk widened to a grin, a sadistic glint in her eye. "Really? Because I didn't see any garment bags last Saturday, and I don't think you need to stay overnight to work on clothes."

Daria barely managed to hide her surprise, not willing to give Sandi the satisfaction. "So two girls spent the night together. If you think that means they're together, then there's a lot going on at those fashion club sleepovers that Quinn never told me about."

Sandi blushed, but didn't stop pushing. "Very funny, but we had things to talk about and do together. What do those two have in common? What else could they be doing?" She leveled a questioning look at Daria, daring her to come up with an answer.

Daria just ignored it. She was done. "If you're done with your rumormongering could you go ahead and leave? You're cutting into my vacant staring practice. I'm hoping to go pro."

"Very well, I was just trying to be considerate," Sandi said, turning and leaving the way she came.

Once the door closed behind Sandi, Daria breathed a sigh of relief. That had been weird. Sandi had always been the type to spread rumors, but never to people like her. The only times she could remember talking to her had been about Quinn. On top of that, she'd seemed off, almost manic.

Still, while she hated to admit it, something about what she said about Stacy had struck a chord. She knew they weren't together, Jane had made it pretty clear she was straight after that art camp last summer, but something was going on. Regardless, now she definitely had to talk to Jane tonight.

**::**

Daria stared at the Lane's front door, hesitating. She'd been there for several minutes and was starting to regret the decision to talk to Jane in person. As she finally raised her fist to knock, Jane's voice came from behind her, causing her to jump.

"Took you long enough."

"Jane! I, uh, came to talk."

Jane walked past Daria and unlocked the door, holding it open. "That's a relief. I was worried you'd just come over to stare at my front door."

"How long were you standing there?" Daria asked, embarrassment clear in her voice.

"Only a couple of minutes," Jane said with a grin. "Come on in."

Daria walked in and the two went up the stairs and into Jane's room without further conversation. Once there, they settled into an awkward silence. Eventually, Jane tossed down her bag and sat on her bed.

"So, you said you wanted to talk. Talk."

Daria took a deep breath, then said, "I'm sorry about the party. I don't understand why, but it was clearly important to you. I should have been more supportive."

Jane shook her head. "I shouldn't have dragged you out in the first place. The whole social interaction thing was never really your deal."

"I didn't think it was yours either," Daria replied, a little defensive.

"Well it is. At least, more than it is for you." Jane stood up and started pacing. "I _like_ spending time with people. Sure they can be annoying, but I need to get out and interact with more than one other person. I can't spend _all_ my time with you."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Daria asked, not sure if she should be offended.

Jane stopped pacing and turned to face Daria. "Come on Daria, you know you have a tendency to get a little… possessive."

"Possessive? What are you talking about? You make it sound like I'm some kind of jealous girlfriend," Daria said, jokingly.

"Are you? You certainly act like it sometimes. Whenever I start spending time with anyone else you either stop talking to me or turn into a total bitch. When I started running track and got popular, when I started going out Tom and Nathan, and now hanging out with Stacy; every time."

"Hey, I was right about at least half of those."

Jane threw up her arms. "That's not the point! You act like that every time. Of course you're going to be right sometimes; lots of people are jerks. That doesn't mean I shouldn't keep trying to find the cool ones."

"If so many people are jerks, what's the point in looking when you've already found one of the few cool people out there? Why not just hang out with them?"

"Because people are different. There are things I can't talk about with you, things I can't _do_ with you. I need other people in my life."

"Like Stacy Rowe? What huge gap in your life is she filling? You need someone who can help you coordinate your outfits?" Daria asked bitterly, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about! What the hell is your problem with Stacy?"

"Jane, I—"

"You want to know what Stacy does? She understands how scary it is to be alone. She understands what it's like to be so scared of losing the one friend you have that you do whatever it takes to make them happy, to keep them from leaving. Even if that leaves you with no one else around you," Jane said, her eyes glistening with held back tears, "Even if they steal your boyfriend and you have to watch them date him for a year."

Daria felt like she'd been stabbed in the gut. She tried to say something, but couldn't make the words come out. Eventually, she managed to say, "I'm sorry."

Jane turned away from Daria and quietly said, "Look, can you just… go."

"I—" Daria stopped herself. This wasn't the time. "Okay." Numbly, she left the room and headed downstairs to her car.

* * *

Quinn sat on the couch, flipping through the channels, but not really paying attention. She'd been on autopilot since lunch. Mr. O'Neill had made her sit in the audience all afternoon after she kept messing up her lines.

The door opened behind her and she turned around to see Daria looking about as bad as she felt. Her sister walked over and dropped down onto one of the other couches.

"What happened to you?" Quinn asked, turning to face her sister.

"I'm a terrible friend," Daria replied absently.

Quinn gave a hollow chuckle. "You too? It must run in the family."

"What?" Daria asked, coming out of her daze a bit.

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

Daria didn't respond. Quinn shrugged and was about to start flipping through the channels again, when Daria muttered, "Damn curiosity. Fine, but you go first."

"I guess that's fair," Quinn said, turning off the TV. She sighed and began, "So, apparently I've been bossing Stacy around for the past few weeks."

Daria arched an eyebrow. "Weeks? That's funny, I seem to recall you and Sandi ordering her around since we moved here."

"Gee, thanks. Besides, it was always Sandi before. Mostly. I mean, okay sometimes I said something, but—" Quinn dropped her head into her hands and muttered, "God, what's wrong with me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" When Quinn remained silent, Daria asked, "So what brought about this revelation?"

"Stacy kind of… told me off in front of the whole cafeteria," Quinn answered, rushing the later part out as quickly and quietly as possible.

"We're talking about Stacy Rowe, right? Spineless little field mouse?"

Quinn glared at her sister. "Don't talk about her like that! Anyway, she's got plenty of spine. I always tell her—" Quinn stopped and groaned.

"What?"

"I'm doing it again. I push her to do stuff while acting like I'm helping her. I didn't even realize I'd been doing it, someone had to explain it to me after Stacy left."

"At least you were trying to help. I'm apparently just a possessive bitch."

"What?" Quinn asked.

"That's why Jane got mad at me. She says I always start acting jealous when she starts hanging out with other people. Maybe it's true, but I just don't get why she needs to."

"Needs to what?"

"Hang out with other people. _I_ don't need anyone else. I finally found someone who gets me. I thought she felt the same way."

Quinn looked at Daria appraisingly. "Daria, are you…"

"Am I what?" Daria asked, clearly agitated.

"Gay."

Daria groaned. "No, I'm not gay. If you'll recall, I've been dating a guy for the last year. I swear, you're the third person to ask me that today. Why does everyone think I'm gay?"

"You just said you found someone who totally gets you and that you didn't need anyone else. That's the kind of thing you say about someone you're in love with."

"I'm not in love with her. I just… I never found anyone who understands me before, and I never thought I would. I met Jane and that was more than enough. I don't need a lot of people, I don't even like being around a lot of people. I just want to relax with my friend."

"But Jane needs more people," Quinn said, starting to understand the problem.

"That's what she says."

The two were quiet for a while. Quinn finally said, "I think you need to make more friends."

"Quinn, I just said that I don't like—"

"_You_ said you didn't like being around a _lot_ of people. I'm saying that you should try to find a couple of people who you might like and hang out with them alone, like you and Jane do. Then maybe you won't be so jealous when Jane spends time with other people."

"Let's say, hypothetically, that all I need is more people to hang out with. How exactly am I supposed to find these people without having to deal with large groups of morons?"

Quinn tilted her head in thought. "Hmm… What about Tom?" Daria flinched at the name, but Quinn pressed on, "You hung out with him without Jane."

"Can we not talk about him?" Daria said, sounding wounded.

"But you met him without having to deal with big groups, that means you can make more friends."

"Yeah, all I have to do is break my best friend's heart."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn asked, finally noticing her sister's distress. "I thought you and Jane were over all that."

"So did I," Daria said bitterly, "Apparently Jane was just forcing herself to put up with it for the past year."

"Why didn't she say anything?"

Daria gave an exhausted sigh. "She said something about being afraid of losing her only friend and being all alone." She slammed a fist down on the couch and continued, "Damn it, I never would have dated him if I knew she felt that way."

Quinn put a hand on Daria's arm. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."

"Tell that to Jane." Daria shook her sister's hand off. "Look, can we talk about something else?"

"Um, okay." Quinn thought for a moment, then said, "Oh! Who else called you gay?"

Daria was shaken out of her depression by the strange question. With an incredulous look, she asked, "What?"

"You said three people asked if you were gay today. One is me, and I'm guessing one is Jane, so who's the other?"

"Sandi Griffin," Daria answered, her distaste clear.

"When did you see Sandi?" Quinn asked, surprised.

"She showed up at the coffee shop to spread rumors about Jane and Stacy. Wanted to let me know my 'girlfriend' was cheating on me."

Quinn fidgeted. "Um, not that it's important or anything, but what did she say?"

Daria eyed her sister. "What do you know?"

"What? I don't know anything. Why would I know something?"

"Quinn."

"Look, I can't tell you, okay? I promised Stacy I wouldn't tell anyone."

"So Stacy has a big secret relating to her and Jane cheating on me?"

Quinn pouted and almost screamed. "I didn't say that!"

Daria ignored her. "So that must mean… Quinn what was Stacy doing over at Jane's all night on Saturday?"

"Look Daria, I can't tell you. Stacy is already mad at me and if I told you anything she'd never forgive me. Can you _please_ just tell me what Sandi said? I need to warn Stacy," Quinn pleaded.

Daria sighed and shook her head. "I must be getting soft. Sandi said that Stacy spent the night at Jane's on Saturday, and that they didn't have any costumes or things for the play. She said they were hanging out together a lot and that since they didn't have anything in common they could only be dating. However that works. That's all I know, I kicked her out before she could say anything else."

Quinn was processing the information when a thought occurred. "How did she know about Stacy spending the night at Jane's?"

"I assume she saw them."

"But Sandi would never go to that part of town. Oh my god, is she stalking them?" Quinn asked, her eyes wide.

"I seriously doubt Sandi is stalking anyone, it's just a coincidence. Maybe someone told her."

"I don't know Daria, Sandi's kind of… off."

"She did seem a little unhinged when she came in," Daria said thoughtfully.

"So she _is_ stalking them."

"I didn't say that. Even if Sandi _is_ crazy enough to stalk them, I doubt she could. She's not exactly the patient stealthy type. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"If you say so," Quinn said, unconvinced.

Standing up, Daria said, "I'm going up to my room to see if killing some zombies makes me feel any less guilty. So… thanks for the talk."

Quinn smiled up at her sister. "No problem." Once Daria was halfway up the stairs, Quinn called out, "Daria, if you ever want to try the friend thing we talked about, well, you wouldn't have to deal with a lot of people to hang out with _me_. Just, if you're interested."

Pausing before continuing up the stairs Daria said, "Um… thanks. I'll think about it."

No longer zoned out enough to enjoy flipping through the channels, Quinn went upstairs as well. Once in her room, she sat down on the edge of her bed and let herself fall back. Lying with her legs dangling off the bed, she stared up at its pale blue canopy.

When did things get so complicated? Just a few weeks ago things were the same as they had been for the last two years. She had her fashion and Daria had her books and they both had friends that they'd been hanging out with since they moved to Lawndale.

Now everything was different. Theater and getting closer to Daria were great, but did they have to lose their friends? She knew that the problems they were having had been building for a while, but it felt like everything was changing at once. It was so frustrating. Why couldn't everyone just talk to each other? If she and Daria had known what was going on, they could have stopped before it got to this.

Quinn sat up and grabbed the phone from her bedside table. She dialed the first six digits of Stacy's number and hesitated. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she pushed the last number and put the phone to her ear. After a couple of rings, someone picked up.

"Hello, Rowe residence," answered Stacy's mom.

"Hi Mrs. Rowe, can I talk to Stacy?"

"Oh, hi Quinn. Let me get her." Quinn heard the sound of a hand covering a receiver, followed by Mrs. Rowe shouting, "Stacy, it's Quinn." There was a pause and Mrs. Rowe came back on sounding confused. "I'm sorry Quinn, Stacy says she doesn't want to talk to you. Is something wrong?"

"Um, kinda. Look, this really important. Can you tell her Sandi was saying stuff about her and Jane? I just want to tell her about it."

"That girl just doesn't know when to stop," Mrs. Rowe said in a dangerous voice. "Hold on, I'll get Stacy."

After a short wait, Stacy's voice came over the line. "I'm still mad at you."

"That's fair."

"So what did Sandi say?" Stacy asked, relaxing a little.

"She saw you spend the night at Jane's. She told Daria and said you two were dating or doing, y'know, _stuff_ together."

Stacy inhaled sharply. "Oh, God. Jane's going to realize I really _do_ like her, and then she's going to hate me. Well, maybe not _hate_ me, but she'll freak out and think I've only been talking to her because I'm into her, which isn't true, I talk to her for lots of reasons, and we were just getting to know each other and she _gets_ me. She really _gets_ me." Stacy took a deep breath and groaned, "Why did this have to happen?"

Quinn hesitated for a second, not wanting to tell Stacy what to do, then said, "Stacy it's going to be alright. Jane won't hate you and she won't find out. Look, I don't want to tell you what to do, but if you tell her yourself, she'll be more likely to think it's all a rumor."

The line was silent. Quinn thought Stacy might have hung up, until a hopeful voice asked, "Do you really think so?"

Quinn felt herself smile. "Totally. If it was the truth and you didn't want her to know, you wouldn't tell her. If you tell her it makes it seem like it's just a rumor you're warning her about. Why would you tell her about it if you were hiding something?"

"I guess that makes sense. Okay, I've got to call Jane. Bye Quinn."

"Stacy before you go I just wanna say… I'm sorry."

"Quinn…"

"I just wanted you to know. Bye." Quinn hung up the phone.

* * *

Jane lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling numbly, half asleep. What had happened? Daria had come over to apologize and then everything had just come out, even the stuff about Tom. What she'd said wasn't wrong, but she still felt miserable. She could still remember the look on Daria's face when she said it, a gut wrenching mixture of guilt and shock.

Thankfully, the phone interrupted her thoughts. She groped around in the pile of clothes next to her bed where the ringing was coming from, eventually finding the phone on the fourth or fifth ring.

"Hello," she answered, somewhat groggily.

Stacy's voice came over the phone. "Um, hi Jane. Can you talk for a minute?"

"Stacy? Yeah sure, just hold on a sec." Jane sat up and stretched, trying to wake herself up a bit. "What's up?"

"Quinn called."

Jane sighed. "So yours wanted to talk too?"

"What?"

"Your Morgendorffer. Best friend, or ex-best friend, whatever."

"Um, yeah," Stacy answered, sounding confused, "Jane are you okay?"

Jane fell back onto her bed. "Honestly? I feel like crap. Daria came over to apologize for the party and I went off on her. I wasn't _wrong_, but I still feel like a jerk, you know?"

"I think I know what you mean. It's like with Quinn; I really needed to get her to stop pressuring me, but I wish I hadn't blown up like that in front of everyone."

Jane chuckled. "I don't know about _that_. At least no one's going to call you a pushover anymore. I think I heard someone call you dynamite Rowe when you left the room this afternoon." After waiting a moment for a response, Jane continued, "So what did little miss pushy have to say? Begging for forgiveness?"

"No, well she did say sorry, but that's not why she called. She wanted to let me know Sandi was spreading rumors about us."

"For a supposedly popular girl, she sure does have a lot of free time to try and wreck your and Quinn's lives. So what was she saying about you two? Rashes? Boils? Secret shriveled up conjoined twins hidden beneath your clothes?"

"Ew! No. Anyway, I didn't mean _Quinn and me_ us, I meant _you and me_ us."

"Really, and what did she have to say about us? It's already common knowledge that I'm corrupting you with my art geek ways."

Stacy's voice got quiet. "She, um, said that we're sleeping together."

"What?" Jane asked, unsure she had heard correctly.

Stacy took a deep breath. "She said we were sleeping together, like a couple," Stacy said, clearly making an effort to speak normally, "Apparently she saw me spend the night over there."

"What is it with rumors about me and girls? For once I'd like there to be a rumor that Mack is cheating on Jodie with me or something."

"So, you're not… mad?" Stacy asked hesitantly.

"Eh, like I said, this isn't the first time the rumor mill has paired me off with another girl." Jane chuckled bitterly. "Heck, this time it's one of the cute popular ones. I'm moving up in the world."

"Um, thanks, I guess," Stacy said, sounding confused.

"I guess the question is, are you okay?"

"What?"

"Come on Stacy, you're not that hard to read." Jane's voice took on a more compassionate tone as she continued, "Are you worried about being outed or something?"

There was a pause, then Stacy said, "Um, yeah. I'm not really ready for people to find out." Something about what Stacy said seemed off, but Jane just chalked it up to the whole weird situation.

"Look, the best thing to do is just ignore this. Sure, some people are going to _think_ you're gay, but they won't _know_ you're gay, and when the next rumor comes along they'll forget all about it. Okay?"

"Okay. Um, thanks Jane."

"Eh, it's nothing. Just sharing my vast experience as a subject of sapphic gossip."

"Well, thanks anyway. I've got to get going. It's pretty late and I need to start catching up on my sleep."

"Yeah, I'd rather not have O'Neill on my back about keeping you up all night."

"Bye, thanks again."

"See you tomorrow Stacy," Jane said, ending the conversation.

She dropped the handset back onto the pile of clothes next to her bed and stared up at the ceiling, all the energy leaving her body. "So I'm gay again," Jane said to the empty room. She couldn't figure out why people kept pegging her as a lesbian. Was it because she was an artist? But Alison had singled her out at an art colony. She hadn't been attracted to Alison though. Of course, if a guy had gotten her drunk and tried to get her into bed on the first date she wouldn't like him much either.

What about Daria? Those rumors stuck around for a long time. Their whole situation was confusing. They certainly acted like a couple sometimes, hell she'd called Daria on it just this afternoon. She didn't like Daria though, not like that. She certainly couldn't imagine dating a girl like Daria. She was a great friend to sit around and complain with, but Jane needed someone active who had different opinions on things.

Jane yawned loudly and decided that was enough introspection for the night. She'd gone over this with herself before and she probably would again, just another fun part of adolescence. She reached over to her lamp and switched it off, the darkness easing her mind as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

**Hello again,**

**It's been awhile. At least considering my usual update schedule, but, as I said before, you shouldn't expect a regular schedule from me. The story comes out when it wants to, not completely up to me.**

**This one has a lot of conflict, which is fun to write. Pretty much the first half is conflict and the second half is commiserating the first half. Let me know how you thought it turned out. I know this is , but I'll take one "You should work on..." over a dozen "This was great!"s, not that I mind getting the later.**

**As always thank you for reading and commenting.**

**Edit: 8/16/15 Finishing up my trimming. Cut a few sentences, changed a few things, so on.**


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